The next match was announced after the corpses had been cleared away. The first wave to enter was a group of Ghis on chariots. Their leader wore an exaggerated Old Ghis Legionary Commander's ceremonial helmet—a bucket-shaped bronze helm adorned with a colorful plume of feathers. His subordinates, bare-chested, wielded black whips over ten meters long.
Missandei explained that they were the Ghiscari Legion Long Whips, who used their long whips to control the Ghis Empire's millions of slaves.
The next wave wore ornate, smoky-black armor. Without the translator's explanation, Dany guessed they were merely imitating the Valyrian Dragonlords.
The final group of Ghis entered, carrying golden shields in their left hands and shimmering short swords in their right. They wore spiked golden helmets, golden sleeveless leather armor, black leather shorts, and golden boots. They looked somewhat like the Unsullied, but more refined.
When those golden warriors rolled out on their chariots, the entire arena erupted in thunderous applause, and even the Good Masters rose to bow.
"They are the Old Ghis Golden Warriors, the strongest soldiers of the Legion, the very foundation upon which the Ghis Empire once dominated the continent—all fake, all imitations," Jorah said, waving his hand with a look of disdain. He sneered, "The Sons of the Harpy are so lost in the glory of the Old Empire that they've forgotten it fell five thousand years ago."
Dany, however, grew excited. "Are they going to duel?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes, look." Jorah pointed to the center of the arena, where three chariots were drawn up together. A few Ghiscari warriors on the vehicles were solemnly exchanging gold-lacquered parchment scrolls.
"They are reenacting the ritual of exchanging challenge letters before the city-state wars of the Old Ghis Empire," he explained. "The battle is about to begin."
"Wonderful. Watching the Ghiscari slaughter each other is even more exciting than the slave gladiators," Dany whispered with a smile.
*I hope every last one of them dies,* she thought. *And if those eight Good Masters themselves had to fight, that would be even better!*
Jorah scoffed. "Princess, what slave owner today would have the courage to join a gladiatorial match? Just watch."
Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd, the three Ghiscari "generals" raised their parchment scrolls high and drove their chariots three times around the arena. Then, they retreated through the passageways one by one.
Simultaneously, on the other side, three iron gates creaked open. Three groups of bare-chested warriors, each wearing cloaks of a different color, marched out.
Each squad numbered about fifty men. The multicolored cloaks represented the Long Whips of the Ghiscari Legion Commanders; the black cloaks represented the Valyrian Dragonlords; and the yellow cloaks represented the Golden Swordsmen, the bravest of the Ghiscari Legion.
Then, 150 men fought to the death in the cramped arena, wielding spears, shortswords, Arakh curved blades, and long whips.
They fought with a reckless fury, utterly disregarding their own lives as if they and their opponents' were worth less than a single copper coin.
This was far more brutal than the previous 10-on-10 match. The once-dry ground had turned into a complete quagmire—no exaggeration, it had become a muddy mess after the rain.
Below, a "True Restricted-Rating Gorefest" was being enacted. Above, the Ghiscari spectators were swept up in a surge of bloodlust, entering a state of inexplicable frenzy. They weren't just watching men fight; they were traveling 5,000 years back in time, becoming members of the Old Ghis Legion. They were sweeping across the Valyrian Freehold, trampling the water wizards of Lhazar, making the Andal knights wail beneath their swords, and leaving 300 dragons dead in their wake.
It was an absolutely exhilarating, blood-pumping spectacle.
Dany's inner turmoil inexplicably calmed. Everything around her felt both real and surreal. The events were unfolding in reality, yet she watched them from a god's-eye view, as if observing a movie.
"This is hell. Let's go back," she said suddenly, standing up and addressing Jorah and the others.
She noticed the expressions of her retinue. Only Whitebeard and Jorah showed a look of pity. Missandei's face was deathly pale. Bevos and the Horsewoman, however, were watching with rapt attention.
Even Ji Qi and Yili were swept up in the atmosphere, shouting and cheering with flushed cheeks.
"We really should leave," Whitebeard agreed. "A place like this shouldn't even exist in the world."
The Good Masters, however, were completely indifferent to Dany's departure. Krazni and another Good Master even mocked her loudly, calling her weak and foolish.
The slaughter in the arena had been too bloody. Dany hadn't touched a single bite of the food the slave owner's servants had brought at noon, and neither had Whitebeard or Jorah. Bevos, on the other hand, had gorged himself. Like the Good Masters, he seemed to find the blood-soaked sand below to be an appetizer that whetted his appetite.
By the time they returned to the ship, it was already approaching evening. Dany ate some fruit and white bread to fill her stomach, took a bath, and fed the three dragons their dinner.
Though the sky was still dark, she went back to her room to rest.
Lying in bed, Dany tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The events of the day at the arena replayed in her mind, scene after scene. Then she thought of the Unsullied, their expressions as hard as stone, and even the images of them killing puppies and infants flashed before her eyes.
Finally, she thought about what she had to do tomorrow and the day after.
She kept turning over, and her movements were so large that she woke Yili, who was sleeping beside her.
The horsewoman attendant had witnessed a grand spectacle today. Sated and content, she had just settled into bed and begun to snore softly.
"Khaleesi, can't you sleep?" she asked.
In the darkness, Dany murmured a soft "Mmm."
After a moment, the horsewoman tentatively reached out. "Do you need my help?"
"Help with what?" Dany asked, puzzled.
"I've learned some techniques from Doria. I can please you," she said, slipping her small, calloused hand under Dany's covers.
Stunned, Dany took a moment to react. Blushing, she turned away. "Oh, no, not that. I'm just thinking about what happened at the arena."
With Drogo's Blood Rider dead, the other horsewomen dared not touch Dany's attendants. The three women, long deprived of affection, had grown accustomed to it, and Dany sometimes saw Doria with them.
"Oh, what's wrong with the arena?" Yili's voice was flat, devoid of any embarrassment or shame from being rejected. It was as if she had just asked, "Khaleesi, would you like some water?"
While silently lamenting the horsewomen's uninhibited nature, Dany said, "There should be a line people don't cross. The yearning for beauty is what distinguishes humans from beasts. Kindness and mercy are among the most beautiful of human traits. But today I discovered that too many people aren't human at all."
After a pause, Yili spoke softly, "I do not know who my father was, but I had a mother and brothers. They all perished beneath the curved blades of Drogo Khal's bloodriders. But after becoming your handmaiden, I have considered myself completely your own.
In my heart, this is simply how the world works. We have all lived this way, and I do not know how it could be any better."
Yili, Jhiqi, Qhono, and Karalo were not born into Drogo's khalasar. After their own khalasar was destroyed by Drogo, they became semi-slaves to Drogo Khal—a status higher than slaves but lower than the full members of the khalasar.
Later, when Daenerys married Drogo, the four joined her small khalasar, finally gaining their "residency" within Drogo's khalasar.
"I know what a better world would look like, and I intend to change the current one," Dany said.
"I believe in you, Khaleesi. You are the Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, a miracle blessed by the Great Stallion," Yili said, squeezing her hand.
After that, they fell silent. Less than three minutes later, the horsewoman attendant's breathing grew heavy once more.
Dany's eyes widened as she stared at the pitch-black ceiling. The faint creaking of the wooden hull, the waves slapping against the ship's sides, and the footsteps on the deck above...
In the silence, she suddenly heard the breathing of a third person. Startled, she half-sat up and peered into the darkness, whispering, "Doria? Ji Qi?"
"They're asleep," a woman's voice said. "All asleep."
The voice was very close to the bed, as if the speaker was standing right beside it, looking down at Dany.
"Shit, Quixy?" Dany recognized the voice and gasped in alarm. "What are you doing in Astapor? Where are my guards? Didn't they stop you?"
"It's me," Quixy replied, seemingly taking a few steps closer. Dany could just make out a vague shadow in the darkness.
"This afternoon, while I was meditating, I again foresaw a world-shaking event. I saw your figure standing amidst blood and fire, with a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood at your feet," Quixy said calmly.
Dany's expression changed. She asked with a trembling voice, "What do you know?"
*This damn prophecy art is so fucking annoying,* she thought. *I only have a vague idea in my mind, yet you've already been triggered?*
"I know nothing. I'm completely confused. So... can you tell me?"
Quixy's words made her breathe a massive sigh of relief.
"I don't even know the most basic Meditation Method, how could I possibly understand prophecy?" she said.
In the darkness, Dany felt Quixy's gaze on her. Just as she was about to ask again how to break through the guards' defenses, Quixy spoke.
"Daenerys, remember this: to go north, you must travel south. To reach the Dacheng Realm, you must head east. If you wish to advance, you must retreat. If you seek the light, you must pass through the shadows."
The voice grew fainter with each sentence, the last one almost a whisper.
Dany's heart stirred. She called out, "Big Black, light the way."
The sound of dragging chains echoed from the corner as the black dragon slowly stirred from its slumber. Its dark red eyes glowed like night pearls. *Hiss—*
Big Black's jaws parted slightly, releasing a thin stream of fire. The darkness in the room was instantly banished by the light. Dany looked around, only to shudder violently. The door was shut, the bolt firmly in place, yet there was no trace of the woman in the red-lacquered mask.
A locked-room murder?
Oh, no, a locked-room theft? A locked-room break-in?
How did Quixy get in? How did she leave?
"Oh my god!" Dany suddenly slapped her forehead and muttered, "Damn it, it must be a glass candle!"
If science couldn't explain it, then only magic could. Glass candles seemed to enable cross-border communication and projection.
Even if it wasn't a glass candle, it had to be some similar kind of sorcery.
To test her theory, Dany threw off her blanket, threw on a robe, and stepped out of her room. Doria and Ji Qi had set up a low cot in the outer chamber to sleep. In the corridor and on the top deck, four or five Horsewoman attendants were patrolling back and forth.
Dany also saw Whitebeard sleeping in a bedroll at the cabin entrance. Hearing footsteps, the old man immediately woke up.
"Princess?" Whitebeard sat up and asked.
"It's me. Did you see Quixy?" Dany asked.
"No one came in. I can tell a stranger's identity from their footsteps," the old man confirmed.
Dany's bedroom had originally been Grolai's captain's cabin, located at the innermost part of the third-deck cabin. There was only one way in and out, and Whitebeard slept right by that path.
"Sigh, Quixy came to see me," Dany sighed.
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(End of Chapter)