Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

The battle unfolded exactly as Kraken had anticipated. Although Mandela displayed extraordinary bravery, and his dozen or so comrades fought with all their might, the city's defense forces' superior numbers, equipment, and discipline could not be offset by mere passion and courage.

The powerful Coalhead wielded his hammer, capable of smashing the heads of city guards with a single blow, but was quickly wounded by spears thrusting from all directions; Mandela, wielding a short sword, slashed like a lion, wounding a city guard, but before he could reap his reward, he was rammed back by the advancing shield wall; Little Flea finally obtained the crossbow he had longed for, hiding behind the crowd and achieving his first kill, but lost his quiver in the chaotic shoving…

Those who bravely rush to the front fail to make a breakthrough, while those who timidly shrink back lose their courage and only want to retreat further.

But the city's garrison tightened its encirclement. Their shields, like moving city walls, relentlessly pushed Mandela and his comrades towards a desperate situation.

Mandela shouted and brandished his dulled dagger, trying to repel the enemy and boost the morale of the rioting slaves. However, he was met only with the increasingly desperate cries of his comrades and the relentless footsteps and clashing shields of the city's defenders.

The air seemed to freeze, save for the glint of swords and screams that echoed in their ears. The city garrison's encirclement tightened, their shields and spears like the scythe of death, reaping lives step by step. Mandela and his comrades, like trapped beasts in a desperate situation, could only make a final struggle.

"Clang!" The sound of weapons hitting the ground was particularly jarring and noticeable on the noisy battlefield.

Immediately afterwards, more slaves discarded their weapons of resistance and knelt on the ground in the same humble posture they had once shown to their masters.

In the end, only Mandela and his four companions remained on the battlefield, standing out like cranes among chickens in the center.

"You bunch of spineless cowards! Waaah!" The little flea was halfway through his rant when a burly slave standing nearby covered his mouth.

Surrounded by his brother-in-law and a group of noble officers, Kraken surveyed his spoils of war.

"Who is the leader among you?" Kraken, riding on his horse, raised his chin and glanced sideways at the slaves who were surrounded by the city guards' spears and crossbows.

Perhaps due to the overwhelming pressure, no slave dared to speak up for a moment.

"You won't talk? Then you'll all be crucified!" Kraken threatened coldly, feeling his authority had been offended.

"My light! My great master! I am loyal! My collar is proof! I identify him!" A slave trembled as he raised his head, broke free from his companions who were pulling him, trotted forward from the crowd, then quickly knelt down, turned around, and pointed at Mandela in the crowd, loudly accusing him: "It's him, that old cripple! He uses that child to control and oppress all of us slaves, cuts our rations, and feeds his own accomplices so they have the strength to rebel against their master. I could have done so much more work for my master, but he starved us, left us weak, and beat those who disobeyed him. Last month..."

"Traitor! We did this for everyone's freedom!" the little flea shouted angrily.

"You're doing this for yourselves! I'm perfectly fine thanks to the master's mercy!"

"Enough!" Kraken interrupted the chattering slave.

"Lock up those kneeling! Shoot those standing!" Kraken commanded sternly. Normally, any rebellious slave, regardless of master or servant, would be executed. However, the blacksmith was a valuable skilled slave, and given the special circumstances of war, he couldn't arbitrarily dispose of him without his master's permission. Therefore, he decided to execute only the ringleaders.

According to past practice, the rebellious slaves would carry the cross that was about to nail them to death, and parade through the streets amidst whips and curses, until they reached the roadside outside Meereen.

But there was still fighting on the city walls, so the procedures were simplified.

"Wait a minute!" Kraken's brother-in-law stopped the noble officer who had raised his crossbow.

After all, he was Kraken's brother-in-law, so the officers were very respectful.

"The Golden Lion?" Kraken's brother-in-law asked uncertainly, "Which legendary gladiator, the Golden Lion, are you?"

Mandela straightened his back, though exhaustion and pain had made him almost unsteady on his feet. He looked coldly at the slave owner before him, but said nothing.

"Yes, that's it! Those deep blue eyes, that look—restrained yet resolute—that's him!" Kraken's brother-in-law exclaimed excitedly.

He then leaned closer to his brother-in-law and whispered something in his ear.

Kraken's expression shifted from serious to incredulous, then to grim, all in just a few words. His gaze darted back and forth between his brother-in-law and the rioting slave leader.

Kraken was born into the Yahzan family, a minor branch of the once-great family, and there was a reason why he was able to marry a noblewoman from the Graza family.

Kraken's wife had a bad reputation before marriage and was dumped by the young master of the Caral family because of her obsession with gladiators—a dual obsession of mind and body. Otherwise, Kraken would never have been chosen for marriage. Moreover, the main reason for that failed marriage was said to be this gladiator named Golden Lion.

The Mandela of today was formerly known as the Lame Man, then as the Golden Lion, and even earlier as the Pink Deer, because his first job as a slave was as a bed slave to the young master of the Karal family.

Inheriting his mother's excellent looks and obedient attitude, the young master of Carrara found him exceptionally useful. Of course, it wasn't long before the young master's fiancée also discovered his usefulness.

The young master of the Caraller family was a playboy who indulged in all kinds of pleasures, but no matter how outrageous he was, he could not tolerate his fiancée sharing a bed with a slave.

Thus, the pink deer, or rather, Mandela at that time, was driven out of his luxurious mansion and thrown into the arena like trash, where he was met with a brutal gladiatorial contest with a huge disparity in strength.

However, the pink deer, or rather Mandela, miraculously survived and, in the extreme environment of the arena filled with blood, sweat, and death, quickly absorbed masculinity and completed its transformation.

He honed his outstanding physical qualities and superb combat skills through brutal training and battles, making a name for himself in the gladiator arena, winning the cheers of countless spectators and the favor of slave owners, and gradually becoming the golden signboard of the gladiator school owner.

Because of his iconic, thick, fluffy, and shiny golden hair, which resembles a lion's mane, and his fierce and ruthless fighting style, the audience in the arena who loved him called him: the Golden Lion.

However, in Meereen, gladiators are not just gladiators; they also do some other kinds of work.

Many noblewomen and certain aristocratic men with particular tastes had an almost obsessive desire for these muscular men full of masculinity.

They would enjoy the services of hunks at public banquets, in the bedrooms of private residences, and even in gladiator cages.

Cosmetics were made from the sweat of gladiators, and their blood was used as beauty ointments and remedies. Even the life essence of gladiators was used to nourish offspring, hoping that they would be as healthy and strong as the gladiators.

Undoubtedly, having received prior training as a bed slave, the Golden Lion once again performed at his best. This left his audience and patrons utterly captivated, including Kraken's wife, a noblewoman from the Graza family who was obsessed with gladiators.

After a long separation, her rekindled passion with her former lover burned even more intensely. The two met frequently in secret, and the noblewoman even spent vast sums of money to help her old flame recover from a knee injury sustained in a fierce battle. Ultimately, she even used her family's power and wealth to contend with her fiancé for this gladiator…

Because she went too far, this affair—which wasn't a secret within the circle but was tacitly covered up in public—was exploited by her enemies. This caused an irreparable rift between the Carallée and Graza families. The noblewoman's marriage was hastily arranged; she chose a low-ranking man from a prominent family as her replacement.

Kraken was fully aware of all this, but he wasn't particularly upset. On their wedding night, his wife refused to let him in, and afterwards, she stayed indoors, living alone in the bedroom for three months.

Then, on the last night of the three months later, the wife pointed to her empty stomach and told Kraken that she would give him a child with his blood, use her family connections to help him get a promotion, and provide him with a comfortable life with her dowry. However, after the child was born, he could not interfere with her private life.

Kraken agreed. The child was his own flesh and blood, he had been promoted, and his living conditions had improved many times over. His wife had even spent a fortune to buy him two top-notch bed slaves from Yuankai. He also kept his promise not to inquire about his wife's private life and considerately played the role of a loving couple when needed.

Kraken was enjoying both his career and life, and he didn't care whether the gladiator lived or died.

But now, he has a headache about this.

In the workplace, a person's behavior often reveals their attitude, but Kraken was unsure how to deal with this unruly gladiator.

If he kills him, will his wife think he's unhappy about her past? If he doesn't kill him, will his wife be more grateful that he's protected her former lover, or will she think it's a deliberate humiliation of her and her family?

There were many other young members of the powerful families present, including members of the Karal family. Many of them knew about what happened back then. If he didn't kill them, would they think he was trying to curry favor with Graza and deliberately humiliate Karal? If he killed them, would they think he was expressing a desire to get closer to Karal? Even if he took too long to think about it, some might think his attitude was wavering…

However, it's not something you can ask directly; you can only rely on your own thinking to make a decision. After an increasingly intense brainstorming session, Kraken broke down and regretted for the first time that he shouldn't have accepted so much money and piled so many random people under his command.

Kraken, troubled, kept tapping his palm lightly with his riding crop, wondering what to do. Just then, Mandela suddenly began to sing. His voice was rugged and melodious, with an indescribable infectiousness that pierced through the noisy battlefield and resonated in everyone's heart.

He was originally a free man.

Living in his hometown,

But the centaurs bound his hands with ropes.

Now,

He fought against people in a foreign land.

But this wasn't for his own sake.

It wasn't for my distant, lovely hometown.

But it was for the joy of the people of Meereen…”

As Mandela sang, he grew tired and simply sat down on the ground. Perhaps he would never leave Meereen, the city that had imprisoned and enslaved him for most of his life, but at least from the moment he took up arms to resist, he was breathing the air of freedom.

Now, this air of freedom passes through his throat, transforming into a song of freedom that drifts into the distance.

The little flea and his three remaining companions wore complex expressions. They knew that Mandela's opening of his mouth meant he was prepared to die. As Mandela's singing grew louder and louder, the four companions exchanged glances and joined in the chorus.

"In the brutal gladiatorial combat,"

The blood shed by gladiators!

Amid the slave owners' laughter,

The gladiator faced his death...

The city's garrison soldiers present noticed that even some of the slaves kneeling on the ground were humming softly. The song was desolate and far-reaching, as if carrying the gladiators' endless sorrow and helplessness, drifting into every corner of the brutal battlefield.

Kraken listened to the song, and a look of surprise appeared on his face. The deadlock had been broken!

"By the supreme decree of the Great Lord's Council, all slaves who know or spread the idea of ​​freedom shall be executed! Shoot them!"

At Kraken's command, the crossbowmen immediately drew their bows, the arrowheads gleaming coldly in the sunlight, aimed directly at Mandela and his slave companions, who were immersed in the song.

However, at this critical moment, deafening cheers suddenly erupted from all directions, breaking the almost frozen air like thunder.

"What happened?" Kraken exclaimed.

"Dragon King! The Dragon King has entered the city!" a messenger replied breathlessly.

"Quick, take me to the docks!" Kraken's brother-in-law cried out in alarm.

"My hat! My red feathered hat!"

"Go home, hurry home!"

······

The once orderly city defense forces were thrown into chaos in an instant, with only Kraken looking bewildered.