Location: The Dothraki Sea (Essos)
The Great Grass Sea was an ocean of green that stretched endlessly to the horizon. The heat was oppressive, shimmering off the ground in waves that distorted the air.
For the forty thousand Dothraki riders, it was home. For Daenerys Targaryen, it was torture. She rode her silver mare with raw thighs and a sunburned face, trying not to weep from exhaustion.
For Ren and his entourage, it was a road trip.
They rode near the rear of the Khalasar, but not with the slaves. They had their own covered wagon—a luxurious Pentoshi wain drawn by four strong horses—but mostly, they rode.
Viserys Targaryen trotted his horse alongside Ren. The Beggar King was sweating, his silver hair matted with dust. He looked at Ren's group—Saya, Saeko, Maggie—who looked irritatingly fresh, clean, and cool.
"You ride with the ease of a Dothraki, Lord Ren," Viserys sneered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Yet you dress like a silk merchant. Tell me, in the Shadow Lands, do you not feel the sun?"
Ren looked at Viserys. The Universal Translator translated the High Valyrian perfectly.
"We feel the sun, Viserys," Ren said calmly. "We just choose not to let it bother us."
"You have wine?" Viserys demanded, eyeing the wagon. "My supply is dry. These savages drink fermented mare's milk. It is vile."
"I have wine," Ren said. "But it is not for you. It is for the Queen."
Viserys's face twisted in rage. "I am the King! She is my currency! You do not give gifts to my sister without my permission!"
Ren stopped his horse. The sudden halt made Viserys's horse spook.
Ren leaned over. His blue eyes flashed gold for a split second.
"Careful, 'Your Grace'," Ren whispered. "Currency can be spent. But a Dragon... a Dragon burns those who try to sell it."
Viserys opened his mouth to shout, then closed it. The fear instinct kicked in. He spurred his horse and rode away, cursing under his breath.
Saya Takagi rode up beside Ren. She adjusted her sunglasses (a relic from the modern world).
"He's an idiot," Saya diagnosed. "Unstable. Narcissistic. He's going to get himself killed within a month."
"We're counting on it," Ren said. "Tonight, we camp. And tonight, we rest properly."
The Pocket Dimension: The Night Villa
As the sun set and the Dothraki set up their tents, Ren's group entered their wagon. Once inside, hidden from view, Ren opened the World Anchor.
They stepped through.
The contrast was jarring. The dry, dusty heat of Essos vanished, replaced by the cool, climate-controlled air of the Tier 3 Pocket Dimension.
The villa had expanded. It now overlooked a digital lake that simulated moonlight on water. The air smelled of jasmine and ozone.
"Oh, thank god," Shizuka groaned, stripping off her heavy riding cloak and throwing it on a couch. "I thought my skin was going to peel off."
"Shower first," Andrea called out. "I smell like horse."
The group dispersed. This was their sanctuary. While Daenerys slept on the hard ground outside, Ren's harem lived in a modern paradise.
Ren went to the kitchen. He poured two glasses of iced whiskey (courtesy of the ice maker).
Ren took a detour to the villa's newly constructed basement. He stood before a wall of reinforced glass. Inside the pod, suspended in a field of blue amber-like energy, floated Annie Leonhart.
Her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful—a stark contrast to the warrior who had massacred the Scouts. "Sleep well, sleeping beauty," Ren whispered, checking the integrity readings. "The world out there is full of dragons and sand.
You're better off in here until I need a Titan." Satisfied that his ultimate weapon was secure, Ren turned off the lights and went upstairs.
He walked to the balcony overlooking the lake.
Saya Takagi was there. She wasn't relaxing. She was sitting at a table with a notebook, scribbling furiously.
Ren placed the glass in front of her. The ice clinked.
Saya jumped. "Oh. Ren."
"You're working," Ren said, leaning against the railing. "We're supposed to be resting."
"I'm analyzing the Dothraki social structure," Saya said, tapping the pen. "It's pure might-makes-right. But there's a complexity to the Khal's bloodriders. If we want to manipulate Drogo, we can't just bully him. We have to earn respect."
Ren took a sip of his drink. "You're trying very hard, Saya."
"I have to," she snapped, though her voice lacked its usual bite. She looked down at the notebook. "Maggie is the leader. Saeko is the sword. Hirano is the heavy hitter. Shizuka is the medic. Even Amy and Andrea are soldiers."
She looked up at him, her pink eyes vulnerable for the first time.
"I'm just a high school student who knows things. In a world of dragons and magic... what use am I?"
Ren set his glass down. He walked over and turned her chair to face him.
He placed his hands on the armrests, trapping her. Not aggressively, but protectively.
"Saya," Ren said softly. "Muscles are cheap. I can turn into a Titan. I can level mountains."
He tapped her forehead .
"But this? Strategic intellect? Understanding the flow of power? That is rare. I didn't bring you because I needed another shooter. I brought you because I need a Queen who can play the game better than I can." well technically he can also increase his intellect by using system but there is a thing comforting the women.
Saya blushed deeply. "A... Queen?"
"I can conquer a kingdom," Ren said, leaning closer. "But I need you to help me rule it. Don't doubt your worth. You are the mind of this operation."
Saya stared at him. The arrogance, the annoyance—it all melted away. She realized that despite his god-like power, he actually saw her.
"You're... you're really good at manipulation, you know that?" she whispered, her voice husky.
"Is it manipulation if it's true?"
Ren kissed her.
It wasn't rough. It was slow, appreciative. Saya hesitated for a second, then melted into it, her hands gripping his silk tunic. It was a release of weeks of tension, fear, and hidden admiration.
When they pulled apart, Saya was breathless. She adjusted her glasses, trying to regain her composure.
"Fine," she muttered, flushing red. "I'll... I'll keep working on the strategy."
"Good," Ren smiled, stroking her cheek. "Take the night off, Saya. Join us in the pool later."
Ren left the balcony and went down to the garden dojo.
Saeko Busujima was there. She was wearing a simple white gi, practicing forms with the Murasame.
She sensed him. She stopped mid-swing.
"Master," she bowed.
"Ren," he corrected. "We're off the clock."
"A sword is never off the clock," Saeko replied, a small smile playing on her lips. "The Dothraki... their technique is crude. But fast."
"They fight without armor," Ren noted. "Speed is their defense."
Ren picked up a wooden bokken. "Care for a round?"
Saeko's eyes lit up. The lust for battle—and for him—flared.
"Always."
They sparred. It was a dance of violence. Saeko was faster than she had ever been, enhanced by the System. But Ren was a wall. He parried her strikes effortlessly, guiding her blade, correcting her footing.
They moved closer and closer until they were grappling.
Ren swept her leg, pinning her to the mat. Saeko breathed heavily, her chest heaving against his.
"You hold back," Saeko whispered, looking up at him. "Even now."
"I don't want to break my favorite weapon," Ren said.
Saeko reached up, tracing his jawline. "I want to see the Titan again. I want to see the monster."
"You will," Ren promised, leaning down to kiss her neck. "When we reach Vaes Dothrak... I'm going to kill a Khal."
The Morning After
They emerged from the wagon the next morning, refreshed, clean, and smelling of soap.
Daenerys was riding nearby. She looked exhausted, dusty, and miserable.
Ren rode his horse up to her.
"Khaleesi," Ren greeted.
Daenerys looked at him. "Lord Ren. You look... rested."
"A clear conscience is a soft pillow," Ren lied. He reached into his saddlebag.
He pulled out a jar. It was Aloe Vera Gel (System bought).
"For the saddle sores," Ren said, tossing it to Jorah Mormont.
Jorah caught it. He sniffed it. "It smells... like medicine."
"It heals," Ren said. "Use it."
Ren looked at Daenerys.
"The Dothraki respect strength, Khaleesi. Right now, you are riding like a sack of grain. Stop crying. Stop looking back at your brother. Look forward. You are the blood of the dragon. Act like it."
Daenerys stared at him, stunned by the bluntness. But then, a spark lit in her violet eyes.
"Thank you, my lord," she said stiffly.
Ren nodded and rode back to his group.
"You're grooming her," Maggie noted, riding beside him.
"I'm forging her," Ren corrected. "We need her to hatch the eggs. Once the dragons are born... the game changes."
Ren thought. "Let's get to the good part."