Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

Seven thousand years ago, the ancient Ghiscari Empire was one of the most advanced civilizations of its time. It flourished for nearly a thousand years, dominating almost the entire Essos continent.

However, its glory was short-lived. Within mere decades, the rising power of Valyria, with its dragons and magic, obliterated the Ghiscari Empire.

Unlike other Free Cities of Valyria, the Ghiscari lands were too close to the Valyrian Peninsula, leaving behind few pureblooded descendants. The Ghiscari people of Slaver's Bay were now a mixed race, and they could no longer even speak the Ghiscari tongue.

At this moment, the flamboyantly styled knight spoke in accented Valyrian to a rotund Ghiscari man:

"Good Master, I've brought the visitors to you. By the way, those barbaric Andal people don't even speak Valyrian—you might want to hire a better translator."

Across the square stood a massive 120-meter-tall pyramid, its design reminiscent of the Mayan pyramids.

Unlike Egyptian pyramids, which have countless steps on every side for climbing, the Ghiscari pyramids featured only 33 large steps per side. This made each step a staggering 3.6 meters high.

To reach the top, a single staircase was carved into one side for easier access.

At the base of this pyramid, a lavish couch had been placed. Reclining on it was a tall, rotund man with bronze-red skin. Draped in a long, golden-fringed tokar—a loose, toga-like garment that wrapped around the body and was secured over one shoulder—he looked both imposing and slothful.

This man was the Good Master Kraznys, a prominent slave trader.

In his right hand, he held a short leather whip, which he occasionally used to gesture toward Daenerys and her entourage. His left hand was busy grabbing fruit and wine from a table in front of him. Behind him, twin girls waved fans to keep him cool.

"I have the best translator," Kraznys said, pointing to a young girl beside him. "She speaks the dialects of every corner of the world."

He spoke Valyrian, though heavily accented with Ghiscari inflections.

Daenerys and her companions stood by the fountain, awaiting their host's summons. Hearing the exchange, Daenerys frowned in confusion.

"Why does he think I can't speak Valyrian?" she asked.

Jorah's eyes flashed with understanding. "I made sure of that. It's better if they think you only speak the Common Tongue of Westeros and Dothraki."

Daenerys nodded, grasping his subtle strategy.

"Hey, Westerosi wench! Look down here!" Kraznys suddenly sat up and shouted toward Daenerys at the fountain. "I sell flesh, not iron! The harpy statue isn't for sale!"

The young translator shouted in broken Common Tongue, "Mother of Dragons, the Good Master invites you to admire the might of the Unsullied soldiers."

The girl was no more than ten years old, her flat, round face framed by dark skin and unique golden eyes—a trait of the Naathi people.

The Naathi, who inhabited the Isle of Naath near the Basilisk Isles, were known as the "Peaceful People." They were considered the best slaves in the world due to their extreme docility, even more so than the Lhazareen "sheep people."

From the moment Daenerys arrived, she had already noticed the Unsullied.

To her left, rows of soldiers wearing spiked helmets stood in formation—ten ranks, each with a hundred men. Their postures were rigidly straight, their faces expressionless as if carved from granite. Under the blazing sun, they showed no trace of life or emotion, their vacant gazes fixed forward, paying no heed to Daenerys and her group.

"They stand neatly, but that doesn't mean they're skilled in battle. I'd like to know more about their training. If all they've learned is how to line up and stand still, they're useless to me," Daenerys said as she approached the pyramid steps, smiling at the young translator.

The flat-faced girl gave Daenerys a curious look before relaying her words to her master. "The Westerosi woman is pleased with them, but she hasn't praised them outright. She seems to want to negotiate the price and also wants to know how the Unsullied are trained."

"Are all Westerosi pigs this ignorant?" Kraznys wiped the sweat from his brow, muttering, "Didn't her savage husband tell her about the '3000 Unsullied at Qohor'?"

Four hundred years ago, after the Doom of Valyria, the political landscape of Essos underwent dramatic changes. In addition to the Free Cities declaring independence, the nomadic Dothraki began expanding their influence in the East, unchallenged by any major power.

A Khal named Temmo led his khalasar—the first Dothraki force to invade the Norvos Plain in the west.

With 20,000 screaming horsemen, Temmo's warriors pillaged and burned everything in their path, cutting through cities like a hot knife through butter.

Eventually, they passed through the Forest of Qohor and reached the gates of Qohor itself. Temmo Khal and his light cavalry utterly destroyed the Qohorik heavy cavalry, causing the mercenary Bright Banner and Second Sons to flee in the dead of night.

Just hours before the city's fall, the 3,000 Unsullied that Qohor had ordered from Astapor finally arrived.

Having marched over ten thousand miles without rest, these light infantrymen immediately engaged Temmo's 20,000 mounted warriors in battle.

The result was staggering: the Unsullied killed 12,000 Dothraki, losing only 2,400 of their own. Temmo Khal, his sons, and his bloodriders all perished in the fighting.

The remaining 8,000 Dothraki lined up in front of the surviving Unsullied and, one by one, cut off their braids, tossing them at the feet of the warriors as a gesture of surrender.

(PS: This event in A Song of Ice and Fire is real, but I personally feel the author might have been a little too drunk at the time. Heavy cavalry being defeated by light infantry, with both sides engaging head-on without any tactics involved? The cavalry rested while the infantry had marched endlessly. How is that even possible? Not even the legendary Yue Family Army of Grandpa Yue Fei could achieve such a miraculous battle.)

The Battle of Qohor has practically become a promotional video for the Unsullied. The tale spread widely, not just across the continent of Essos but even across the Narrow Sea to Westeros, where it was immortalized in legendary tales.

Kraznys mo Nakloz, grinning with exaggerated enthusiasm, turned to Daenerys and said, "Tell her the story of how 3,000 Unsullied defended Qohor. It will surely astound her! Quickly, slave, recount it for her. Ugh, this weather is unbearable. Has the Long Summer already arrived?"

The young slave girl dutifully retold the story with vivid expressions and an animated tone, concluding, "Honored guest, rest assured—the Unsullied are unparalleled in their mastery of spear, shield, and sword. This is a fact known across the world."

Daenerys leaned slightly toward Jorah and whispered, "What's the deal with Temmo Kao? He has utterly disgraced generations of horsemen."

She knew the Dothraki screamers well—they were undoubtedly masters of warfare. Born and raised on horseback, they were skilled in archery and fearless in battle, arguably the strongest light cavalry in existence.

She had always believed that only the heavily armored knights of Westeros could counter them. But then she looked at the Unsullied standing motionless like wooden stakes. They wore conical bronze helmets with 30cm-long spikes on top—resembling a Qing Dynasty general's lightning rod helmet—and simple sleeveless leather armor. At their waists hung 40cm-long short swords, while their left arms bore round wooden shields covered in leather, one meter in diameter, and their right hands gripped long spears.

A standard light infantry setup.

How could such soldiers possibly stand against the swift and deadly archery and charges of the Dothraki horsemen?

"My guess is that Temmo underestimated the Unsullied at first," Jorah said thoughtfully. "He probably ordered his cavalry to charge directly into the Unsullied's spear-and-shield phalanx."

The defense of Qohor by 3,000 Unsullied is a historical fact, not a mythical tale. They must have emerged victorious; otherwise, the city of Qohor wouldn't stand today.

Whitebeard stroked his beard and sighed. "The horsemen were too straightforward. Temmo Kao led the first charge himself, which likely meant he died in the very first wave. The remaining warriors lacked the ability to change tactics and simply launched wave after wave of charges. Any other army might have collapsed after suffering 20% casualties. But the Unsullied? Even if there was only one left standing, they would neither retreat nor panic."

Kraznys tapped the girl on the head with the handle of his whip and irritably asked, "What are those barbarian pigs babbling about?"

"They're boasting to the guest about the valor of the Unsullied," the translator replied.

"Hahaha! At least they have some sense," Kraznys said, laughing. "Let them keep talking. The more that little wench is impressed, the more slaves she'll end up buying later." He clapped his hands, summoning a group of young slave girls in silk dresses and trousers. They walked over to Daenerys and her companions, holding silk-patterned parasols to shield them from the sun.

The parasols were of little use in the sweltering heat of Slaver's Bay. From dawn, the sun blazed mercilessly, baking the thick red bricks of the Plaza of Pride until they were scorching hot. Even through thick soles, the heat could be felt rising from the ground.

Waves of heat shimmered in the air, making the surrounding stepped pyramids of Astapor look like mirages.

"My Unsullied, my fine slaves!" Kraznys raised his silver whip and shouted, "Drop your shields and spears! Remove your armor! Let the Westerosi woman get a good look at your strong, sturdy bodies."

"Clatter!"

A thousand soldiers, who had been standing like statues, suddenly sprang to life. In unison, they bent down to place their shields and spears on the ground, quickly removed their leather armor and silk trousers, leaving only white linen wraps around their waists and the lightning-rod-like helmets on their heads.

They stood straight again, allowing the Westerosi queen to inspect them closely.

Daenerys did take a closer look and noted their lean, muscular builds.

Despite being eunuchs, they all had defined abs, unlike Belwas, who carried a belly as round as a pregnant woman's.

The slave girl explained, "They are selected based on physique, speed, and strength. Training begins at the age of five and continues daily, from dawn until nightfall, until they master the skills of short sword, shield, and the three types of spears. The training is harsh; only one in three boys survives. This is common knowledge.

There's a saying about the Unsullied—once they earn their spiked helmets, the hardest part of their lives is over. No mission they undertake afterward will ever be as grueling as their training."

Kraznys, unable to understand the Common Tongue, nodded pretentiously as he listened. When the translator finished, he said smugly, "Tell that kingdom-less queen that my fine slaves have been standing there since yesterday. A full day and night, without food or water.

Tell her that unless I order them to disperse, they will remain standing until they collapse. Tell her that even if 999 fall dead onto the bricks, the last one will stand unmoving until death takes him. Tell her—that is the courage of the Unsullied."

When the solemn-faced translator finished speaking, Whitebeard angrily stomped the ground with his hardwood staff and muttered to Daenerys in a low voice, "That is not courage—it's madness. Let's leave. Everyone here is insane!"

(End of Chapter)

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