Every evening, all Unsullied were required to surrender their identity tags. These were thrown into a wooden bucket, and at dawn the next day, one would be drawn at random. Whatever name was pulled, that would be the eunuch's name for that day.
As Drogo observed the well-built slave before him, he mused silently:
"I don't know if you're the same Grey Worm from the novels... but the name you drew today is an incredibly lucky one."
Unless commanded to face a designated enemy, the Unsullied would not fight with full force. Drogo turned to Kraznys and requested:
"Let them fight me seriously—as if I were their enemy. No holding back."
That request made the High Master—who had already lost the Harpy's Finger—feel both humiliated and speechless. He thought this savage must have a death wish. Challenging even one Unsullied was madness—ten was suicide. And to ask them to go all out?
He clenched his teeth.
"If Drogo dies, I'll order the Unsullied to slaughter his khalasar and flee Astapor with the dragons. Then I'll wait for them to grow strong enough to conquer the world!"
Ruthlessness gleamed in Kraznys's eyes as he barked in heavily-accented Valyrian:
"Fight him as you would my mortal enemy!"
The ten Unsullied immediately stood at attention, slammed their spears to the ground, and replied in unison:
"Yes, Master!"
Drogo nodded with approval. He slowly rose, unbuckled his gold-plated arakh, and pointed it toward Grey Worm:
"Be grateful for the name you drew today. It's the reason I'll let you live."
But Grey Worm didn't feel gratitude—only insult. He vowed to pierce Drogo's heart with his spear and earn his master's praise.
Daenerys grew anxious.
"My sun and stars," she said, "there's no need for this. I'm already satisfied with their strength. Facing ten of them is too dangerous!"
Drogo gave her a reassuring look.
"I've fought worse. Remember how I stood alone against the beast horde? Or when I faced all of Mago's khalasar? I'm still here, aren't I? Just enjoy the show."
Then he waved at a Summer Islander handmaid:
"Bring fruit and wine! Let my Khaleesi watch with pleasure."
Hearing this, one of the Ghiscari lords spat in disgust:
"Dornish wine? For a mare? Out of the question!"
Tensions flared. Kraznys rushed to intervene.
"Forgive him, my Khal. He's drunk—I'll discipline him."
He stormed over, slapped the man hard across the face, and roared:
"If this deal falls apart, I'll enslave your whole family! Women to Yunkai, men castrated! Now get out of my sight!"
Still unsatisfied, he kicked the bleeding man to the ground.
The fallen lord mumbled, "Why so worked up over one fallen Khal?"
Kraznys wanted to scream: Because I lost the Harpy's Finger, you idiot!
But he couldn't reveal the truth. If the others found out, they'd tear him down in a heartbeat.
He grabbed the tray himself. The dragons bared their fangs—Kraznys flinched and ordered Missandei to serve Daenerys instead.
Trembling, the girl obeyed. Dany, understanding her fear, let her stay without blame.
As the humiliated Ghiscari prepared to leave, Drogo signaled to Rakharo. He took the longbow, nocked an arrow, and fired without aiming.
"Agh!"
The lord fell, shot through the back. Blood splattered the platform.
The crowd erupted in panic—except the Unsullied, still motionless.
Kraznys, livid, screamed:
"You ten—what are you waiting for?! Kill him!"
The Unsullied shouted, "Hah!" and charged.
Merchants fled the stage. A wide space opened for the duel.
Drogo stepped in boldly and struck—only for the Unsullied to block with his shield. But the force brought him to one knee, exposing his neck.
In a flash—slash!—Drogo decapitated him.
The masters were stunned. Fear rippled through them.
Good. Let them taste fear first, Drogo thought.
He ducked and rolled to evade nine spears, then slashed upward, breaking their shafts. He leapt up, body-slammed two more, and stabbed them both.
Three down in seconds. Gasps of horror spread. Merchants fled the platform.
Dany could barely breathe. Every strike made her heart clench in fear.
The Bloodriders readied their weapons, just in case.
Kraznys's face darkened. If Drogo kept winning, he'd order the full Unsullied army to attack.
With spears broken, the Unsullied switched to short swords and surrounded Drogo in formation—blocking and thrusting in sync to wear him down.
But Drogo was too quick, too fierce. He danced among them like a hunting leopard, striking again and again.
Soon, only Grey Worm remained.
Drogo hadn't underestimated him. The man held his ground for dozens of rounds with impeccable shield work and precise strikes.
But Kraznys had reached his breaking point.
"All Unsullied!" he roared. "Kill every Dothraki and their allies!"
The other masters echoed, "Kill them! Leave no one alive!"
The Unsullied moved like machines—half rushed the khalasar, half charged the platform.
The Dothraki, fierce though they were, couldn't hold off ten thousand trained soldiers.
Drogo knew the time had come. He roared:
"Snowball! Come to me—now!"
From the sewers, a black blur shot out—Snowball, holding a strange whip in his mouth.
Covered in filth, the beast darted past the Unsullied and reached the stage first.
Drogo kicked Grey Worm aside, grabbed the whip, and patted Snowball with pride.
Kraznys screamed in horror:
"That's the Harpy's Finger! I knew it! He never meant to give me that lion! Damn him!"
Drogo had risked everything—and won.
He raised the Harpy's Finger high:
"Unsullied—cease fighting!"
The Unsullied froze. That whip, drilled into them since childhood, was the symbol of ultimate command.
The Dothraki did not stop. They fell upon the panicked masters, cutting them down like wheat.
Drogo felt the rush of absolute power again.
Then came a scream:
"Drogo! My sun and stars!"
He turned—and saw Kraznys with a sword at Dany's throat.
The dragons shrieked.
"Drop the blade, pig!" Drogo bellowed.
But Kraznys was unhinged:
"Give me the whip! The dragons! The jewels! GIVE ME EVERYTHING!"
Drogo smiled at Dany.
"Don't be afraid. Close your eyes. You'll be fine. Remember—you are the blood of the dragon."
Kraznys laughed madly. Dany closed her eyes and whispered:
"I am the Unburnt."
Drogo shouted:
"Dracarys!!"
Three dragons opened their jaws—WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
Kraznys didn't even scream—he turned to ash.
Drogo walked to his burning queen, took her hand, and placed the Harpy's Finger in her palm.
"Speak your truth. Do what you must."
She stepped to the front of the platform, raised the whip, and shouted:
"Unsullied! Kill the masters. Kill the guards. Kill anyone who's ever whipped you. Break your chains—and be free, forever!"
Her voice shook the square. The slaves' blood boiled with awakening fire.
.-
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🐉 Dragon King of Ice and Fire
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