Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

Outside Meereen, beside a somewhat deserted camp, Night Fury landed heavily, panting. His massive body kicked up a cloud of dark red dust, causing Damon, who was hydrating himself with a light beer, to close his eyes and hold his breath. Nearby, Corakshough let out a disgruntled roar at Night Fury before continuing to feast on the wounded warhorse that the laborers had dragged over.

Covered in dust and covered in dirt, Reed staggered down from the dragon saddle, threw his helmet to his squire, and then muttered something with a ferocious expression.

The red sand, like dried blood, was churned up by thousands of horsemen and cavalry, and with the help of the wind, it formed a battlefield fog comparable to a sandstorm. This made breathing in it extremely painful for those who were in it. Their already parched throats and airways would be filled with fine sand with each breath, and with each loud command, the tiny grains of sand would scrape against their throats like sharp blades, causing unbearable pain.

"Cough! Cough! Cough! ...Spit!" Reed tilted his head and spat out a mouthful of white saliva mixed with grit and blood. Not caring whether it was clean or not, he picked up the huge beer mug and drank it all in one gulp to wash away the discomfort in his throat.

Damon, watching Reed's disheveled appearance, couldn't help but chuckle and mocked in High Valyrian, "The sands of Meereen have rejected you; your reign will not last long."

Reed glared at him, wiped the wine stains from his mouth, took a deep breath, and tried to dispel the frustration in his chest: "This lousy war is not what I expected!"

Damon retorted irritably, "We've already won, what more do you want? To anticipate the enemy's moves step by step, to lead the charge at every turn and win a brilliant victory, and then to wear a dazzling suit of armor, ride a white horse at the head of the procession, and have a bunch of young girls and women shower you with flowers?"

"I originally planned to let those slaves cause some trouble for the Meereenians, and then I would act as the savior and end the war. But it just made things worse."

The initial resistance and riots did indeed disrupt the battle, tying down some of the city's defenses and delaying the Meereen army's deployment. However, with the Unsullied largely wiped out and Rhed's army gaining the upper hand, large numbers of the city's defense forces, composed of slave soldiers and urban civilians, began to collapse, and the chaos spiraled out of control.

Small-scale slave uprisings spread like wildfire, quickly engulfing the entire city and shattering the previously orderly battle. The long-suppressed anger of the slaves, once ignited, spread like wildfire, becoming uncontrollable. They not only attacked the Meereen army but also began looting and plundering each other, plunging every corner of the city into chaos.

The initial resistance evolved into vengeful killings, and finally into a cathartic outburst of violence, abuse, arson, and destruction... The scene was like a volcanic eruption after long-suppressed anger, unstoppable and uncontrollable.

Damon recalled the scene he had witnessed from above, riding his dragon: a tidal wave of slaves pouring out from all directions, venting their fury on the slave owners' army with clubs, pickaxes, shackles, and even teeth—first the overseers, then the slave soldiers, then the Unsullied and their great lords, and finally all the Meereenians clad in toka robes, regardless of age, gender, wealth, or social status…

Even Damon, who was used to the cruelty and brutality of war, felt a chill run down his spine after watching it.

"I was quite shocked when I first read your Abolitionist Declaration, but when I saw the carnage in Meereen, I even wondered if you were a devil crawled out of the seven layers of hell." He took a big gulp of wine to calm himself down and slowly said, "Although it has been helpful in the war, it is extremely detrimental to governance. Those slaves are no longer easy lambs to govern, but mobs that could break out of control at any time."

"The scholars in my family have a very apt analogy for this matter. They say that the subjects are like the water, and the monarch is like the boat on the water. The water can lift the boat, or it can capsize it."

"Then you should have learned how to handle the aftermath?" Damon perked up and sat up straight.

"I was still in the water at the time, so my interest and attention were naturally focused on how the boat capsized," Reed replied lazily.

"I thought you were of noble birth?"

"Our ancestors were wealthy..."

"Oh~!" Damon leaned back, looking annoyed. "A fallen nobleman."

Reed shrugged, unconcerned. He couldn't explain his origins, and as for background information, he'd just throw out a few bits now and then and let others rack their brains.

"So, do you have any way to deal with this, to salvage your gains, or just let them rot?"

Reid was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the distance, towards the city of Meereen, where flames still raged and the sounds of clamor could be faintly heard: "Now that I have broken the old order, I must establish a new one."

"Wait two days, until they've vented their anger, then I'll enter the city to restore order, punish the evil slave owners, and those avengers who have gone too far, so the city can return to order and function. I'll redistribute wealth, confiscate the ill-gotten gains of those great masters, and then allocate land, houses, shops, and production materials to those penniless slaves, so they can resume production, work for me, pay taxes, and fight on the battlefield..."

Damon listened intently, eager to learn something, but the more he listened, the more something seemed off: "It sounds completely unrelated to those grand and eloquent words in your 'Manifesto'... But now I believe you're not a demon crawled out of the seventh level of hell."

Reed shrugged. "I'm not a saint, I have to think about myself too."

"Since we're on the topic of personal interests, let's talk about my reward. I need your dragons and soldiers to help me conquer the Stone Steps Islands."

"Now?"

"Valerian maritime trade has suffered severe losses, and war is imminent."

"You remind me of a Targaryen I know, who rushes to demand payment without any consideration for others' circumstances. I was barely on my feet in Meereen."

Damon thought back to his ancestors and living relatives, and was quite certain that none of them were like Reed's. He shook his head: "You still have more than 12,000 soldiers, and as the wounded gradually recover, that number will rise to 15,000. I only need 3,000 men, of course, elite ones."

"You're after a fiefdom, aren't you? Come with me and conquer Slaver's Bay. Yunkai, Astapor, or Old Giss—you can choose any one of them."

"That's an enclave far from the Seven Kingdoms. Even if I conquer it, my rule will still depend on your army and trade. How is that any different from your fiefdom? I want five hundred foot knights, five hundred chain hammer soldiers, five hundred halberdiers, five hundred crossbowmen, eight hundred archers, two hundred mechanics, seventy giant crossbows, and five catapults."

"We're not firmly established yet, and we need to settle accounts with the Dothraki. Vis Dothraki, at the foot of Mount Our Lady and on the shores of Lake Womb, is said to be piled high with gold and jewels plundered by the centaurs from all over the world. Aren't you interested?"

"I will fly to Tidehead Island. The Valerian fleet will arrive in about twenty days. I think you will have the troops I need ready by then."

"The sea voyage is too long and the risks are too high. It's nearly 2000 nautical miles round trip, oh, I misspoke, 800 leagues. Because the sea is navigable due to fog, we have to take a detour, so the actual journey is over 1200 leagues. Even the most elite infantrymen would be crippled once they boarded the ship. There are also many unpredictable factors at sea, so the casualty rate would be very high after a 15-day voyage..."

Damon frowned, clearly displeased with Reed's evasiveness, his tone carrying an undeniable firmness. "Is your family motto truly as good as gold?"

"No. That's more like a catchphrase."

"·····"

"What I mean is, your plan is too crude and too extreme. Let's change our approach." Reed looked at the silent Damon, touched his nose a little embarrassedly, and then waved to the clerk beside him.

Soon, two soldiers carried a huge map and laid it at Reed's feet. Reed stepped directly onto the map, located the Stone Steps Islands, and pointed at them with his sword sheath, saying, "This is your target!"

"Huh?"

"The Valerian family's need is to strike at the three queen kingdoms that occupy this area..."

"The Kingdom of Three Bitches!" Damon corrected.

"Alright, the Sea Serpent's needs are to strike the navy, uh, pirates, that occupy the Three Bitch Kingdoms here. Restore the Valerian family's maritime trade."

"uh-huh?"

"Your needs are gold and honor, and a fiefdom."

"Um."

"My need is to avoid risks at sea."

"Um?"

Seeing the serious look on Damon's face, Reid gestured back and forth between the disputed lands, the Steps Islands, and Tidehead Island with his sword sheath, saying, "Your original plan was to attack the Steps Islands, but that godforsaken place has neither people nor industry. All soldiers, war supplies, and warships rely on supplies from the Three Bitch Kingdoms. Similarly, your and the Sea Serpent's logistics are also dependent on supplies. This kind of warfare is essentially a war of attrition. I don't think Tidehead Island has greater war potential than the three united trading city-states. Even if you win a partial victory with your elite army and dragons, you won't be able to fundamentally solve the problem."

"So here's my plan." Reed pointed at the map with his sword sheath. "Mil! There are three advantages to attacking Mil: first, it's all overland, avoiding the uncertainties and risks at sea; second, a direct attack on the homeland can effectively weaken the enemy's war-making ability; and third, it forces the Mil army on the Steppes to come back to reinforce, thereby mobilizing the enemy, creating more opportunities, and even further sowing discord among the three-nation alliance."

A glint of surprise flashed in Damon's eyes: "Tell me more."

"It will take you a month to fly back to Westeros and redeploy troops. You might as well stop wasting time traveling back and forth and just attack the Stepstone Islands as planned. With the Valerian fleet and your dragons, victory in the naval battle is assured."

"I'll take this time to rest and recuperate, tidy up Meereen, and replenish our damaged cavalry. Once you've pinned down the main force of the Three Bitch Kingdom on the Stone Steps Islands, I'll go to Mil to cause trouble."

"I will lead three thousand light cavalry, marching from the Demon Road to Valantis, then north along the Lorne River, heading straight for Mil from Sehoru. We'll wreak havoc wherever we go, luring them into sending troops to annihilate us. Once Mil's defenses are mobilized and its rear is vulnerable, you and the Sea Serpents can even directly attack the city of Mil."

"In this way, the interests of the three bitch kingdoms will not be aligned. Mil will strongly demand the reduction of troops and military aid to strengthen the defense of the homeland, while Tyros and Rhys will certainly look forward to consolidating the gains, or even gloating and watching from the sidelines. The three kingdoms that were originally allied will begin to distrust each other due to mutual distrust. Once there is a gap, the alliance will not be far from breaking down."

"That sounds very feasible, but the plan needs to be refined in more detail," Damon said without thinking. "However, I still need your mechanics and siege equipment."

"Sure, I'll pack it up and ship it for you. You can take it with you when you go back."

"You have to come with me to Chaotou Island too."

"What are you going to do?"

"The best way to strengthen our alliance is through marriage. I plan to persuade the Sea Serpent to marry Lanael to you."

「!?」