Chapter 130: What Is That?
"Roughly five hundred warships," Daario said after estimating the number of vessels in the distance.
"Keep watch on their distance. If they approach any closer, issue a warning," Daenerys ordered grimly as she stared at the massive fleet advancing across the sea.
Five hundred ships—if each were fully loaded with soldiers—could easily carry more than fifty thousand men.
Meereen currently had nearly ten thousand Unsullied, mercenaries, and Yara's Ironborn, along with around fifty thousand newly trained soldiers and five thousand Ghiscari troops whose loyalty was still uncertain.
If a battle broke out, the disadvantage was obvious.
"That's the fleet of my uncle, Euron Greyjoy, from the Iron Islands," Yara said suddenly before anyone else could clearly make out the banners. "He's come for you."
[Looks like in Euron's eyes, Dragon Mother's charm is far greater than that of the Queen Regent]
Drogon muttered.
Queen Regent?
Daenerys, who had been watching the fleet intently, suddenly heard Drogon's nickname for Cersei, Tyrion's sister.
The corner of her lips curled slightly despite the tense situation.
---
The enormous fleet stretched nearly three hundred meters wide and more than a kilometer long, an overwhelming sight on the open sea.
Everyone standing atop the city walls felt a faint sense of pressure.
The soldiers on the battlements stood ready, waiting for orders to attack at any moment.
After hearing Yara's words, Tyrion glanced at Daenerys, noticing the faint crease in her brow.
Ever since Yara had arrived in Meereen, Tyrion had already guessed Euron's purpose for coming.
And he knew just as well that Daenerys would never accept it.
Looking at the dark mass of ships covering the sea, Tyrion slowly frowned.
The fleet did not cross the warning boundary.
Instead, it stopped at a distance.
Only the lead ship continued forward toward the city walls.
As it drew closer, the banner at its prow became visible.
Unlike Yara's kraken sigil, this flag displayed a black pupil and red eye beneath a black iron crown supported by two black ravens.
When the ship approached the walls, the man standing at its prow became visible.
He was of medium height, his shirt hanging loosely open. His brown hair was messy and unkempt, and a black leather eyepatch covered his left eye.
His expression was arrogant, and his gaze roamed boldly across Daenerys as he looked her up and down.
"Not bad at all," he said with a crooked smile. "Worth the long trip from the Iron Islands."
Tilting his head back slightly, Euron shaded his eyes with one hand as he studied her beneath the sunlight.
Then his gaze suddenly shifted.
"Wait… that's your dragon?"
He had initially thought the small figure on Daenerys's shoulder was some kind of exquisite ornament.
Only when it moved did he realize it was alive.
His arrogant expression vanished instantly.
Frowning, he stared intently at Drogon.
For a moment, everyone else on the walls seemed to disappear from his awareness.
Even Daenerys herself was temporarily forgotten.
Although Euron Greyjoy didn't understand why Drogon was so small, he had never imagined a dragon could be so exquisitely beautiful yet still radiate such natural authority.
And it was still barely the size of a hatchling.
The sight left him baffled.
Earlier, he had also noticed the green dragon and the golden dragon circling high in the sky. He had assumed the third dragon would be about the same size as those two.
He never expected it to be this small.
Euron had seen illustrations of newborn dragons before—but none looked as perfectly formed as this one.
When it grew up, he was certain, it would become something truly formidable.
Because Drogon was perched on Daenerys's shoulder, Euron hadn't realized that he had already evolved into a four-limbed dragon. If he had noticed that detail, he would have been even more astonished.
While Euron stared intently at him, Drogon felt a flicker of confusion.
From Euron, he sensed a strange aura.
He couldn't quite identify what it was—but it was something he had never felt before.
---
"Who are you? And why have you come here?"
Euron's brazen attitude—and the increasingly greedy look in his eyes when he stared at Drogon—made Daenerys extremely uncomfortable.
"Isn't that my dear niece?" Euron replied lazily instead of answering her question, glancing toward Yara.
"She stole my ships and ran all the way here. Surely she can tell you who I am."
Yara's expression darkened when she looked at her uncle.
She said nothing.
"I'd like to know what business brings you here," Daenerys said calmly.
She already had a rough idea of his purpose, and she had no intention of forming any alliance with him.
"My honored queen," Euron said, spreading his arms dramatically toward the massive fleet behind him, "I've come for you."
"You see, I've built over two hundred additional ships just for you. My fleet—and my warriors—are ready to fight in your name."
His gesture encompassed the countless ships stretching across the sea.
But his words didn't bring even the faintest smile to Daenerys's face.
Even if Yara hadn't told her about Euron's intentions beforehand, Daenerys knew that so many ships and soldiers were not offered freely.
"What would I have to give in return?" she asked.
"Nothing at all," Euron replied smoothly.
"You need only agree to marry me, and everything you see here will belong to you."
As he spoke, his gaze drifted—almost unconsciously—toward Drogon.
Even without precise knowledge of Meereen's military strength, Euron could roughly estimate it.
If the Queen of Meereen accepted his proposal, he was confident that it wouldn't take long before his own men absorbed the entire city's forces.
And when that happened—
Daenerys and her dragons would belong to him.
---
Back in Qarth, Daenerys had nearly traded herself away for just a handful of ships.
Now, even with five hundred ships before her, she would never make that choice again.
It wasn't merely that her worth had risen.
It was that she no longer needed to sacrifice herself for such gains.
And ever since Qarth, Drogon had clearly opposed the idea of her using herself as a bargaining chip.
"I'm afraid I must refuse your offer," Daenerys said firmly.
"You should return the way you came."
Euron was visibly surprised by her immediate rejection.
After all, he had brought five hundred ships, not the mere fifty Yara had stolen from the Iron Islands.
His fleet was filled with hardened warriors—enough to influence the fate of the Iron Throne itself.
He hadn't expected Daenerys to refuse him so decisively.
Did she really think she could afford to offend him?
Did she truly believe that if he grew angry and attacked Meereen, she could still remain queen?
Thinking this, Euron glanced toward the sky where the two larger dragons circled in the distance.
Does she think those two dragons alone can stop my fifty thousand men?
He had already dismissed the small, elegant dragon on her shoulder.
No matter how beautiful it looked, it would only become dangerous after it grew up.
"Hmm…"
Euron sneered faintly.
Whether or not he actually possessed that thing, he believed he already had a way to deal with those two immature dragons.
Still, he had no desire to escalate the situation into a bloody battle unless necessary.
Instead, he decided to give this overly confident queen a wake-up call.
Just because she had three dragons didn't mean she could conquer the world like Aegon the Conqueror.
"There's something," Euron said slowly, "that I believe Your Grace has heard of."
A sudden sense of unease crept into Daenerys's heart.
After a brief hesitation, she asked,
"What thing?"
"The Dragon Horn."
Those four words instantly changed Daenerys's expression.
Her breathing quickened.
Only by force of will did she manage to suppress the shock and maintain her composure.
---
What is that thing?
Perched on Daenerys's shoulder, Drogon was puzzled.
It was the first time he had heard of a Dragon Horn.
He couldn't understand why Daenerys had reacted so strongly.
---