The great trial of Volantis was held in the square in front of the Temple of the Red God.
Viserys sat on the temporary high platform, his silver hair glittering under the sunlight.
To his left stood Duke Arthur Dayne, clad in valyrian steel armor, and to his right was Benaro the Great Priest of the Temple of the Red God, his dark red robes swaying gently in the breeze.
Black Flame and Ghidorah stood behind the high platform like two massive statues.
The entire trial process was brief but extremely solemn. The remaining nobles in the city, the wealthy merchants who participated in the plot, and the military officers whose hands were stained with blood debts were successively escorted onto the platform.
Viserys personally announced the charges, and every charge was supported by solid evidence or accusations from numerous survivors.
When Marajo Maegor, the last Magistrate of Volantis, was escorted to kneel on the high platform, his face no longer held its former arrogance; it was bloodless and only showed numbness, and the Toga Robes he wore were stained with the dirt of the square.
"Marajo Maegor," Viserys said calmly, "you are accused of launching an unjust war and enforcing tyranny by forcibly conscripting commoners into the army. Do you have anything to say?"
Marajo looked up, his lips trembling. He seemed less brave than the Tiger Party soldiers who had died on the battlefield. "I... I was just carrying out the council's decision."
"Are you not the Magistrate? You were part of the council's decision," Viserys interrupted him. "You only need to answer my question now."
Tens of thousands of Volantene people had gathered in the square. Some of them were former slaves, others were Free Folk and merchants, and they all quietly watched the trial above. There was no cheering, no protest, only a silent numbness.
Marajo looked around and saw the faces of those who once had to bow to him. His gaze gradually changed from fear to despair, and finally, a hint of madness surged forth.
"Do you think you've won?" he hissed. "You only got the dragons by chance. Volantis has existed for thousands of years, but your empire..."
Duke Arthur stepped forward, intending to draw his sword, but Viserys raised a hand to stop him.
He stood up, descended the platform, and walked toward Marajo.
"What about my empire? Starting today, and for all the years to come, only the Targaryen banner will fly over Volantis, and you will merely be dust swallowed by history."
Marajo tried to say something else, but Viserys had already turned away. He did not want to waste any more time arguing with him; there was nothing left to say to a dying man.
"Your crimes are confirmed. Dracarys (Dragonfire)."
Ghidorah immediately extended its right head and spewed a mouthful of Dragonfire, igniting all the Volantene nobles kneeling in a row. They quickly became bodies writhing and curling back and forth.
Seeing this scene, a suppressed gasp ran through the crowd, but there was no commotion. They had become accustomed to death in the past few days. Only this time, death had descended upon those who were once untouchable.
"Starting today," Viserys faced the crowd again, "all slaves in Volantis shall regain their freedom. The Black Wall will be open to all law-abiding citizens. The laws of the Empire will take effect here, protecting the life and property of every individual."
He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the faces.
"For those who still wish to resist, these people before you are your fate." He did not look further, approaching Arthur.
"Ser Arthur, the reorganization here depends on you, just like in Free Bay. Once everything is complete, arrange for a knight of excellent character to take charge, but be mindful of the Temple of the Red God's actions. I must go to Astapor now; the situation there is not very optimistic."
"Understood, Your Majesty. I will fulfill my duty," Duke Arthur bowed, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Benaro the Great Priest on the other side.
Viserys nodded, then went to the edge of the platform, jumped directly onto Ghidorah's back, and left Volantis along with Black Flame.
Three days later, the Astapor front line, Salt Flats.
This open land between New Ghis and Astapor has witnessed several wars over thousands of years. The Ghiscari Empire and the Valyrian Freehold also left countless skeletons here.
Now, a new war once again soaked this land with blood.
Seen from above, the Imperial Army's camp stretched for miles, consisting mainly of the Free Folk Legion from Yunkai and Astapor. The size of the force seemed immense, but judging by the layout of their tents, it appeared somewhat disorganized, and due to several unfavorable engagements, morale seemed low.
Outside the main camp, the encampments of the Second Sons Company and the Stormcrow Company were much more orderly. The Mercenaries gathered around campfires, wiping their weapons and talking in low voices, their eyes revealing caution.
However, the camp of New Ghis opposite was much more orderly than this one, with fully armed patrol teams appearing frequently.
Viserys landed under the cover of night. Because these soldiers often saw Black Flame and Ghidorah while in Astapor, when they saw Ghidorah land in the camp, they were surprised, but mostly delighted.
When he met Count Elisha, the Earl practically stumbled toward him. This stern and pragmatic Ser had not yet removed his armor, and his face carried a hint of undeniable guilt. When he reached Viserys, he dropped heavily to one knee.
"Your Majesty," his voice was dry and hoarse, "I am guilty. After several engagements, we have not only lost nearly two thousand men but also achieved no results. I ask for your punishment."
Viserys did not immediately tell him to stand up. Instead, he first scrutinized his old subordinate, and after a moment, reached out and placed his hand on Alliser's shoulder. "Stand up and speak, Ser Elissar."
Alliser looked up but avoided his gaze, slowly rising.
Viserys turned, motioning for Alliser to follow, and walked toward the main tent. "More than half of these sixty thousand people are Free Folk who have only been unshackled for less than a year, and the rest have barely seen combat. Therefore, my main purpose in bringing them here this time is to let them see blood, understand the cruelty of war, and train them through real combat. After all, dragons won't always arrive in time. In future wars, they will be facing the elites of Westeros, so they must have sufficient fighting strength."
Hearing these words, Alliser's shoulders relaxed slightly, but his brow remained furrowed. "Your Majesty, the New Ghiscari army is much stronger than we anticipated. Especially that fully armored unit, at least ten thousand strong—they are in no way inferior to the Gold Cloaks of King's Landing. Our army is completely outmatched."
"Those are the 'Ghiscari Ironsides,' the hidden strength of New Ghis," Viserys said, pointing a finger at a map. "They are elite infantry inherited from the Old Ghiscari Empire, and they fought the Dragonlords of the Valyrian Freehold for decades—keep in mind the Freehold had hundreds of dragons back then."
He looked at Alliser. "So, it is perfectly normal for the Free Folk not to be their match."
"Tomorrow," Viserys drew an arc on the map with his finger, "what you must do is force New Ghis to commit all its forces to a decisive battle. Have the Free Folk Legion adopt a full-scale offensive posture, with the Second Sons Company and the Stormcrow Company applying pressure on both flanks. The display must be massive, making them believe you are fighting desperately."
He paused, continuing, "When their attention is completely drawn to you, Ghidorah, Black Flame, and I will strike from their rear, aiming to capture them all."
"As you command, Your Majesty." Alliser saluted solemnly and turned to arrange the matters for the next day. Viserys also rode Ghidorah away; otherwise, her massive body could not be hidden once dawn broke.
Early the next morning, both sides deployed their formations on the plain.
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