GOT: I Plunder Skills — Chapter 389 - The Conquest of Yunkai

Not one soul left alive in Yunkai.

"Kill!!"

Tens of thousands of newly armed slaves poured into the Golden City, surging over a road paved with flesh and blood and revenge.

The streets of Yunkai drowned instantly in desperate screaming and roars of fury.

Those slave masters who had always stood above everyone else, those nobles wrapped in silk and drenched in perfume , now they were nothing but startled birds, flushed from their nests.

Dragged from their opulent mansions. Their silk torn to rags.

The terror on their faces, the begging, bought them nothing but deeper hatred and sharper blades.

"Mercy! Mercy, please!"

A fat merchant was pinned to the ground by two slave soldiers, screaming, gold coins tumbling from his pockets and scattering across the stones.

The answer he got was a spear through his heart from behind.

The boy who had been conscripted by force , the one whose father had been kicked to the ground and his life destroyed , was red-eyed now, shoving through the chaos, searching.

He found what he was looking for in a crowd.

The overseer. The one who had done it.

The man was surrounded by slave soldiers but still fighting back with his whip, still trying.

The boy let out a sound that didn't belong to anything human. He drove through the crowd and slammed into the overseer with everything he had, sending him crashing to the ground.

He straddled the man's chest. The whip came down on his back, his shoulders, his arms. He didn't feel it. He raised his curved blade and brought it down.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Until the thing beneath him stopped moving. Until there was nothing left to recognize.

Only then did he stop.

He let the blade fall. He collapsed forward onto the ruined corpse and wept , loud, broken, ugly crying.

The sound lasted a moment before the city swallowed it whole.

On the dragon's back.

Tyrion stared down at the rivers of blood below, his stomach turning itself inside out. He couldn't hold it anymore. He grabbed the nearest ridge of scales and vomited over the side.

Jorah Mormont had gone the color of old wax. He turned his face away and kept it there.

Only Daenerys.

She watched the city being scoured clean by fire and blood, and in her violet eyes burned something close to worship.

Those damned slave masters. This is exactly the judgment they deserve.

This is war.

This is conquest.

BOOM!

Winter's massive claws came down in the central plaza of Yunkai. The Golden Pyramid rose directly ahead.

Lynn dropped from the dragon's back.

The noise died wherever he walked. The slave soldiers mid-rampage caught sight of him and stopped — instinctively, without being told — bowing their heads and parting to let him through.

Grey Worm came forward with a squad of Unsullied, a dozen of Yunkai's most powerful Wise Masters stumbling along in their grip.

They were shoved to the ground in front of Lynn. Knees on cold stone.

"Devil..." one of them breathed, staring up at him. His whole body was shaking. The front of his breeches had gone dark. "You're a devil..."

Lynn didn't acknowledge the word.

He turned and looked at the bronze statue dominating the center of the plaza. The Harpy, wings spread, talons raised high. A symbol of the Ghiscari Empire's glory. A monument to slavery.

"Grey Worm."

"My lord."

"Collect every whip used on slaves in this city. All of them. Burn them."

"Then pin these men to the ground."

Grey Worm didn't hesitate. He gave the order, and the Unsullied moved forward immediately, pressing each sobbing, pleading Wise Master flat against the stone.

"Use a knife," Lynn said.

His voice was even. Almost quiet.

"Pull out their entrails."

Grey Worm drew a short blade from his belt and walked to the nearest man. He crouched down.

The Wise Masters' eyes went wide.

The blade went in.

Grey Worm worked slowly. Carefully. He didn't kill him , that would have been too fast. Instead, with steady hands, he reached inside and began to draw out the steaming, slick length of intestine, inch by careful inch.

No screen. No ceremony. Right there in front of everyone.

The newly freed slave soldiers watched the men who had owned their lives meet this end. Smiles spread across their faces , wide, unguarded, deeply satisfied.

Daenerys watched. Her breathing had gone shallow.

Tyrion was past vomiting. He lay crumpled on the ground, nearly bringing up bile, his face the color of something already dead.

It didn't take long.

Grazdan's entrails were removed in their entirety. He was still twitching. Still making sounds.

Grey Worm rose, held out the mass of bloodied intestine, and passed it to the Unsullied at his back.

"Hang them up," Lynn said.

That was his final order.

The Unsullied tied one end of the entrails around Grazdan's neck and threw the other end up over the Harpy's raised talons.

Several soldiers pulled in unison.

Grazdan's body rose slowly off the ground.

He hanged by his own entrails, and died.

One.

Two.

Three.

A dozen bodies swayed from the Harpy statue by the time it was done.

The city of Yunkai went silent. Not quiet , silent. The kind that presses on your ears.

Lynn turned to face the assembled slave soldiers, all of them watching him with eyes full of awe and something fiercer than that.

"All the grain and wealth in this city is yours. Every last coin of it."

"From today, you are no longer slaves."

"You are my soldiers."

"Now — clear the battlefield. Count the supplies. Treat the wounded."

"We rest."

His voice carried to every corner of the plaza.

"Three days from now."

"We march on Meereen."

The plaza erupted.

Lynn didn't look back. He turned and walked toward the Golden Pyramid.

➤ Next: Meereen's Reinforcements — Words Unspoken