Daenerys's beautiful violet eyes darkened with a hint of shadow as she spoke in a low voice, "Old man, did you notice? The Great Plague in Oldtown, and Pentos a few years ago—they all broke out in prosperous trade ports. The patient zero always came from foreign merchant ships."
Aemon was stunned for a long moment before exclaiming, "Are you saying the Allied Forces might have deliberately sent plague-infected ships to Slaver's Bay?"
Daenerys nodded gravely. "Maybe not the greyscale plague itself—it's too terrifying. The Allies couldn't control it."
This speculation was frightening. Even more terrifying was the possibility that speculation had become reality.
They had barely exchanged a few words at the dock when a riot broke out aboard a 600-ton merchant ship named Osha the Smith.
Faced with an inspection by the Unsullied, the sailors drew their blades and attacked.
A short, stocky first mate with a blue beard suddenly lashed out, slashing down an Unsullied soldier in charge of quarantine.
After cutting him down, he held the bloody blade high and shouted to the surrounding ships, "These eunuchs are up to no good! They're destroying our cargo without cause. Everyone, fight them!"
"Woooo—"
At that moment, a centurion beneath the ship blew his horn. Over a hundred Unsullied soldiers, who had been lined up on the docks, surged onto the boarding planks.
"Acting guilty already? Damn it, I was right."
Daenerys, both shocked and furious, slapped Little Green's neck and flew over.
"Leave some alive!"
In less than a minute, the Unsullied had already boarded the ship in formation.
With shields in front and crossbows firing from the rear, they cut down the unarmored sailors like a killing machine.
Cries of the dying echoed across the dock. The scalding blood painted the deck red, and the faint stench of blood was carried on the sea breeze.
Little Green landed on the stone dock beside the ship. Daenerys leapt down and ran up the plank onto the deck.
By then, the battle was nearly over.
The ten-man quarantine team had been caught off guard and lost three soldiers, with the rest wounded.
However, the heavily armed main unit of a hundred had not lost a single man—not even one injured.
Of the eighty-plus sailors, half lay dead in pools of blood, more than twenty were wounded and captured, and the remaining few huddled in the corners crying, not having taken part in the fight.
Yes, the Unsullied were just that efficient.
Each of them carried a hand crossbow. After two volleys of bolts, half of the unarmored sailors had fallen.
The blue-bearded first mate who started the attack now lay on the ground, clutching the stump of his severed right arm with his left hand. His round, potato-like face had turned ghostly pale as he screamed hoarsely:
"Everyone, come see! The Dragon Queen has gone mad! She's murdering people! She's robbing our cargo!"
Daenerys's iron boots left messy footprints in the blood-soaked deck as she walked over. She gave the howling first mate only a glance before ordering the Unsullied, "Search the cargo hold. Don't leave a single sack or crate unchecked."
"We're legitimate merchants! We're not carrying contraband," the first mate growled, his face twisted in pain.
"Legitimate merchants don't attack my people. Speak up. What did you bring here for the Allies?"
With Drogon still in flight and unable to anchor her spirit within him, Daenerys summoned Little White, who was dozing atop the Dragon Tower on Dragonstone, into her mental sea.
Her violet eyes shimmered with silver light. The pressure from her will descended like a heavenly river, crashing down on the first mate's soul.
"I—" His face grew even paler, sweat dripping down his forehead in large beads. "I'm not afraid of you. Y-You'll find nothing. Nothing..."
The tangible force of her draconic aura made it hard for him to breathe, but he gritted his teeth and kept his secrets.
Daenerys frowned slightly. This one has a strong will.
The draconic aura was real.
It could suppress the spirit, even force confessions from certain prisoners. That was also true.
But at the end of the day, it was only mental pressure. It wasn't a true soul attack. As long as the subject was strong-willed enough, they could resist it.
"Heh. You've already given yourself away, you know that?"
Most people couldn't withstand the draconic aura.
Daenerys gave a cold chuckle, then said to the Unsullied beside her, "Take him to the Pyramid. Have the healers stop his bleeding, then throw him in the black cells. Tell Hattar—I want to know everything this first mate is hiding."
Two Unsullied immediately hoisted the man and dragged him away.
"You'll never find anything!" the first mate shouted, flashing a twisted grin at the Dragon Queen. Then he turned to the gathered merchants and sailors on both sides and cried out, "See this? This is the daughter of the Mad King—the Mother of Demon Dragons!
This wicked woman is butchering innocent sailors like us! Grab your weapons! Raise your sails! Flee this land of evil!"
"Skreee—" Little Green suddenly rose to his feet. His savage dragon head darted out like a serpent, nearly biting the first mate's bloated potato face.
"ROOOAAAR—" The dragon's cry echoed like a train whistle, yet with a suffocating pressure and the burning stench of sulfur no whistle could carry.
"Ahhh—" The first mate's body went rigid, his spine straight as a bow, his mouth working but unable to form words, while a warm yellow stream dribbled down his legs.
Thud— Even the Unsullied couldn't help but cover their ears as the man's body collapsed like a felled log.
"Little Green!" Daenerys rushed to the ship's rail in alarm. "Don't scare him to death!"
"Skreeee—" Little Green answered, raising his head high in defiance as he surveyed the surroundings with imperial disdain.
The surrounding sailors and merchants, their eyes filled with unease, turned their heads away, avoiding the dragon's gaze.
Half an hour later, the Unsullied returned to report:
"Your Grace, the hold contains only three hundred barrels of paint, five hundred bundles of wool, a thousand pieces of tanned cowhide and linen, and three hundred tons of refined iron ingots used for ballast. No contraband was found."
When the ship had approached the dock, customs officers had also come aboard to inspect the cargo hold.
But the inspection then had not been thorough. The main role of customs was to tally the types and quantities of goods, not to examine every crate and sack in detail.
That wouldn't have been practical—far too time-consuming.
And sure enough, it took dozens of people over half an hour just to complete a full inspection of the hold.
Daenerys frowned.
"Are you certain every corner has been checked? Were there any rats locked in cages or crates, or any sick individuals being held in isolation?"
"No, Your Grace. We knew what you were looking for and specifically interrogated the few sailors who didn't join the fight. They all said they hadn't seen any 'special crates,'" the Unsullied replied.
"That makes no sense..." Daenerys murmured, puzzled.
"Khaleesi, use the dragon," a general in iron armor with a three-headed dragon emblem on his chest stepped forward to remind her.
It was "Blackbeard" Grolay, Daenerys' loyal old officer and a high-ranking admiral.
Formerly a captain under Illyrio, he was rich in sailing experience but somewhat lacking in military discipline.
Though he had helped Daenerys build a fleet of a hundred longships, he couldn't establish naval dominance over the Sea of Grief. He could only act as a local tyrant in Slaver's Bay, relying on the dragons' might.
"Have you forgotten? Dragons can drive out rats. Let the green one flush them out. Just now, I saw a few rats fleeing the ship," Blackbeard explained when he saw Daenerys looking confused.
"Oh," Daenerys suddenly understood and immediately waved toward the sky, calling Little Gold down.
Little Gold was small and could tuck his wings in to squeeze into the cargo hold.
Soon, under the protection of the Unsullied, Little Gold entered the ship's lower deck.
"SKREEEEE!"
The dragon's might and roar flooded the ship without restraint.
Squeak, squeak, squeak...
A massive swarm—hundreds of rats—poured out from below, surging onto the deck like a tide. Even the sailors were chilled to the bone at the sight.
"Gods, have we been living alongside this many rats all along?" someone exclaimed in shock.
The rats varied in size. Some were no bigger than a thumb, while others were as large as kittens, covered in black fur.
At first, they scurried about the deck in a panicked frenzy, but before long, they all swarmed toward the gangplank, preparing to escape onto the dock.
"SKREEEEE!"
Little Green immediately poked his head out and let out a roar toward the rats.
With a shrill squeak, as if struck by a nerve-deadening poison, the rats collapsed almost in unison on the planks, twitching briefly before dying on the spot.
"Uh… no wonder 'rat-hearted' is used to describe cowards. It's spot on," Blackbeard Grolay remarked in amazement.
Two years ago, Big Black and the others were still young and could only frighten rats into madness.
Now that the dragons had grown, they could literally scare the rats to death.
A group of Unsullied crouched on the deck, using chopsticks to pick up each rat. They examined every one carefully before tossing them into woven sacks.
Finally, a centurion reported to the Dragon Queen:
"No signs of greyscale. All the rats were healthy."
"How strange..." Daenerys murmured, rubbing her chin. "No one was carrying a 'biological bomb.' So why did they rebel?"
Suddenly, her expression shifted. Her sharp eyes swept over the surrounding ships.
At this moment, she herself was aboard the Osha the Smith. The ship had become the center of attention.
Then… could it be that the real source of infection was on another ship?
Was that potato-faced man covering for his accomplices?
"Seal off this entire dock immediately. I will personally inspect every ship!" the Dragon Queen commanded loudly.
This time, the Unsullied acted with even greater efficiency. They first gathered all crew members into a corner of the deck, then allowed quarantine officers to board and inspect the cargo.
Then it was the dragons' turn again—Little Gold went below, while Little Green stood by the ship's rail, scaring another flood of rats to death.
"Heh, having the Dragon Queen deal with our rat problem isn't too bad," a shivering sailor joked through chattering teeth as he stood naked, undergoing the Unsullied's thorough inspection.
What frustrated Daenerys was that, after an entire morning of effort, all she'd accomplished was helping over a hundred ships at the dock undergo a full pest cleanup.
And not a single sick rat was found.
"Daenerys, that's good news!" On the way back to the Great Pyramid, old Aemon said cheerfully, "There's no sign of plague at the docks. That means your suspicion was wrong. The coalition isn't as insane as you thought. After all, no one in history has ever used a plague as a weapon against the enemy."
"If I were the coalition, faced with an invincible Dragon Queen, I'd at least consider sending a few plague-ridden corpses into enemy cities," Daenerys said.
The old man sighed and spoke earnestly:
"Daenerys, you are brilliant—a natural commander, with imaginative and unconventional strategies. That's an excellent trait.
But you mustn't assume everyone is as cunning as you. I don't mean to say you're a bad person, only that your tactics often target the darker sides of human nature… which makes them less than honorable."
Not long after they returned to the Great Pyramid, Grey Worm arrived with a smile to report:
"Your Grace, we've finished inspections across all 65,000 households in the city—nearly 150,000 people. Not a single case of infection was found."
"That means Tyrion's greyscale hasn't spread, and Aegon may not be infected either," Aemon said with a wide smile.
Just as Daenerys was beginning to relax, Hathar rushed in, covered in blood and looking alarmed.
"Your Grace, it's bad—those slavers are treacherous!"
(End of Chapter)
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