Though Daenerys had another plan in mind, she knew that in Viserion's heart her actions would look like abandonnt — a mother casting her own child aside.
But to save all Unsullied, and to free them from Kraznys's cruelty, she had no other choice.
She walked straight into the formation of Unsullied, raised the braided whip high, and commanded in flawless Valyrian:
"Unsullied — forward!"
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The army marched.
"Halt!"
Her voice rang out again:
"Unsullied — kill the guards. Kill the whip–holders and the Good Masters.
Kill those who abused you.
Spare only won and children under thirteen."
The instant Jorah, Barristan and the Dothraki heard her order, they drew their blades and charged into the chaos.
Kraznys, struggling to restrain Viserion, finally noticed the uproar and heard her command clearly.
"You— you speak Valyrian!"
Daenerys turned, chin raised, voice steady and proud.
"I am Daenerys Stormborn, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea…
Mother of Dragons.
Of House Targaryen — the blood of Old Valyria.
The Valyrian tongue is my mother's tongue."
Only then did Kraznys realize — from the very beginning, he had walked willingly into her trap.
He opened his mouth to respond—
But Daenerys spoke first, uttering a single ancient word even he could not fully understand:
"Dracarys."
Viserion's jaws opened wide.
A torrent of dragonfire erupted point-blank.
Kraznys's scream was swallowed by fla; the chain lted in an instant as his body crumpled, collapsing into a heap of blackened ash.
At the sa ti Drogon launched from Daenerys's shoulder, raining fire and tearing through guards and fleeing Masters with tooth and claw.
The Unsullied guards were the only ones who mounted a real defense.
The Masters had already been broken by the terror of dragons — scattering wildly like insects.
In less than a minute, resistance was gone.
The Dothraki sward across the training ground, looting valuables.
Daenerys walked to Viserion — the chain half-lted at his feet — and unlatched the shackle.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and soothed him gently while he trembled.
Rhaegal swooped down to rub against her as well, excited after another fire-filled massacre.
Drogon had no interest in playing with "little kids," rising into the air to watch the Unsullied assemble.
Eight thousand soldiers stood in rigid formation — spiked helms straight, shields in perfect alignnt, spears leveled, arrayed in nearly a hundred square phalanxes across the field.
Cold.
Silent.
Unbreakable.
Daenerys ordered Jorah to lead the Dothraki and the Unsullied to seize the Masters' estates, free the slaves, and collect wealth.
And she set strict laws:
No killing without cause.
No violation of won.
Half the spoils go to the freed slaves.
Half go to feeding the Unsullied.
Small squads of Unsullied swept through the city, rooting out remaining forces and restoring order.
---
That night, the council of three gathered to discuss their next step.
This ti, Jorah and Barristan were in rare agreent — Daenerys should sail to Pentos, build her strength, gather more ships, and prepare to cross the Narrow Sea to claim the Iron Throne.
But after what she had seen today — the nailed bodies in the punishnt square, the horrors of slavery — Daenerys chose a different path.
She decided to sail to Yunkai next… to free their slaves as well.
Realizing they could not change her mind, Jorah and Barristan fell silent.
While they strategized, Drogon — a dragon with nothing to do — found himself restless.
Astapor was secured.
The future was decided.
So he decided to travel.
A once-in-a-lifeti chance to be born as a dragon in this world — how could he not go see Westeros with his own eyes?
From Daenerys and Jorah's discussion, he gathered that Pentos lay roughly 1,500 kiloters northwest of Astapor, and from Pentos, one only needed to cross the Narrow Sea to reach Dragonstone.
And on Dragonstone stood the massive relief map of the Seven Kingdoms — the perfect navigation tool.
If he reached it, he'd never lose his way on the continent.
That night, he slipped away with a flint, snatched a bundle of dried straw, and filled a sturdy leather satchel with silver and gold coins taken from Kraznys's treasury.
By the ti dawn broke—
Drogon was in the sky, beginning a journey born of impulse.
A dragon's solo adventure.
Morning:
After washing up, Daenerys discussed plans with Jorah and the others but still hadn't seen Drogon.
She sent Kiki to search for him — unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found.
And once she noticed Kiki's flint and fire-starter pouch missing, Daenerys imdiately understood:
Drogon had slipped out again to go wandering.
With a helpless sigh, she stopped worrying about him.
---
At that mont, Drogon was already soaring above the Free Cities, not far from Pentos.
On the way, he had dipped into the neighboring grassland for a quick al — leaving behind a few coins for the Dothraki.
They didn't use currency themselves, trading mostly through bartering,
but in their dealings with Free Cities rchants, Pentos coins worked just fine.
As he flew, Drogon occasionally landed in remote corners of unfamiliar cities to listen for news.
He made sure to stay hidden — with his current speed in juvenile form, anyone who caught a glimpse of him would assu it was just a trick of the eye.
Right now was not the ti to reveal himself outside Slaver's Bay.
The chaos he had stirred in Qarth and Astapor would have already reached the ears of the Spider — Varys and his network of spies.
Varys must now know that three dragons exist, and that their combat strength is no fantasy.
If King's Landing wasn't already marching against Daenerys, Drogon suspected one of two reasons:
1. Varys hid — or clouded — the reports about the dragons.
2. The Lannisters were too busy with other threats to interfere yet.
Both possibilities were plausible.
Knowing Varys — who served only the realm and the people — Drogon was certain that the mont Daenerys hatched dragons, Varys had quietly marked her as a future Queen.
The fact that he would later help Tyrion kill his father and smuggle him east to Daenerys only confird that the Spider had long been preparing for the rise of the Dragon Queen.
Still, Varys knowing the truth did not an Pentos knew it.
If Drogon revealed himself openly here, trouble was guaranteed.
And if the Lannisters sent an army to kill dragons before Rhaegal and Viserion matured… that would be disastrous.
---
Drogon hid for a while inside the cargo hold of a docked ship — long enough to overhear where he was:
Tyrosh — one of the Free Cities, roughly 200 km from Pentos.
Twenty minutes later, he reached Pentos.
He didn't rush to cross the Narrow Sea imdiately.
After all — this was where Daenerys once married Khal Drogo and beca Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.
He planned to sample the local cuisine before continuing toward Westeros.
Pentos was as densely populated and bustling as Qarth.
As a major port city, its harbor was packed with ships and crowds.
It traded constantly with Westeros and sat on the land route leading straight into the Dothraki Sea — a position of imnse strategic value.
People on the streets sported long beards braided and dyed bright colors — which reminded Drogon of a wildling chieftain with a fiercely red beard he rembered from the show.
To find food, he slipped into the tallest and most luxurious estate he could spot.
Following the sll to the kitchen, he discovered a feast being prepared for lunch — and a storeroom overflowing with provisions:
• Marinated roast duck
• Ornate cream cakes
• at-filled pies
• Honeyed dates
• And fruits he had never seen before
Because he didn't dare transform into his full size here, he had to chew slowly and swallow one bite at a ti — which irritated him to no end.
But he forced himself to endure it…
…and kept stuffing food into his mouth like a starved hatchling.
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