Grazdan and his companions gasped.
All of them. This would empty Astapor's inventory of many years, potentially even affecting their security. But the other party was offering lost Valyrian treasures, whose value might exceed that of all these Unsullied.
"That number is too great, Your Majesty." Grazdan pretended to ponder. "We need to summon the other Good Masters for consultation, and we also need time for mobilization. Furthermore, the price will be astronomical."
"That is not a problem. I obtained quite a few things in Valyria. I only require the Unsullied, and I hope the Good Masters can give me a reply soon."
After Viserys left, Grazdan immediately took action. The news spread rapidly among the Good Masters. The debate was fierce; some suspected a trap, others worried about the city's defenses after emptying the army, but most were blinded by the "Valyrian Treasure."
Greed ultimately overcame caution. After a full day of arguing and calculating, the Good Masters reached a consensus: sell! But they had to seize this opportunity to make a huge profit.
The Good Masters were full of confidence. They even started planning whether they should send people to the ruins of Valyria to search for more treasures once the transaction was complete.
Afterward, they informed Viserys that the transaction could proceed, but they needed time to gather all the Unsullied. They agreed to an on-site delivery three days later at the Unsullied Training Plaza.
What they did not know was that this on-site handover was exactly what Viserys wanted.
However, he was currently more concerned about another matter: the harpies scepter.
That scepter. It was usually kept by the Good Master responsible for the transaction, and Good Master Grazdan was located in the largest Pyramid in the city center.
The night before the transaction, Astapor fell silent.
Viserys closed his eyes and concentrated in his inn room.
His consciousness spread out like a spider silk, connecting to a few stray cats near the inn. Through the cats' eyes, he saw the nighttime streets.
He controlled these cats, silently moving through the shadows toward the most magnificent Pyramid in the city center.
The Pyramid was heavily guarded, but for the small, silent cats, many defenses were useless. Stray cats slipped into the Pyramid through drainage holes, carefully avoiding the passing slaves and patrolling guards.
After some time searching, a black cat finally spotted the target person. It approached a heavy wooden door. Light and conversation leaked out from beneath the crack in the door.
"The Scepter must be kept safe; it is needed for the final review tomorrow." That was Grazdan's voice.
"Don't worry, Father, I have been keeping the Scepter close to me." It was a younger voice.
"Hmm. Viserys's treasure is real, but since he wants so many Unsullied, I feel something unexpected might happen."
"Who cares, Father? The Unsullied only obey the Scepter and our commands. Even if he tries something, with ten thousand Unsullied before him, would he dare move? Once the transaction is complete, those treasures will be enough for us to train twenty thousand more Unsullied."
The voices gradually lowered, seemingly shifting to other topics.
Viserys controlled the black cat and waited patiently. After a long time, they finally came out. Viserys confirmed the Scepter's location through the previous conversation and followed the younger man.
When he entered a room, Viserys also slipped inside through a window that wasn't fully closed.
The room was brightly lit and lavishly decorated. Grazdan's Son was lying on a soft couch, being served by several female slaves, looking thoroughly pleased.
On the table beside him was the scepter, symbolizing the ultimate command over the Unsullied. The scepter was cast entirely from gold, topped with a Harpy statue, inlaid with ruby eyes.
Viserys's mind was settled.
He waited until the man grew drowsy, dismissed the female slaves, and fell asleep, snoring.
The time had come. The black cat leaped lightly onto the table and picked up the Scepter in its mouth. Using its agility, it slipped back out through the window crack, then hooked its claws into the brick seams of the outer wall, inching its way down.
It then quickly returned the way it came to the inn. When Viserys took the harpies scepter from the black cat's mouth, he inspected it carefully, confirming it was correct.
"Thank you for your effort." He stroked the black cat's head and fed it a small piece of jerky. Then, he wrapped the scepter in prepared oilcloth, ready for its use tomorrow.
The next day at noon, at the Unsullied Training Plaza. The blazing sun scorched the sandy ground.
Ten thousand Unsullied were lined up in neat phalanxes, resembling a gray stone forest. They were similar in build, all wearing leather armor, carrying spears and shields, and donning their characteristic pointed helmets.
Each one was expressionless, with vacant eyes. The sunlight reflected cold light off their spear tips. Next to them was the reserve corps of shaved-headed, younger slave boys, three thousand strong.
They were equipped with the same leather armor and weapons, their eyes dull, but they were also lined up in neat ranks, showing no laxity despite being reserves.
The Good Masters had turned out almost in full force, led by Grazdan, sitting in soft chairs under a canopy, surrounded by hundreds of elite Mercenaries. Viserys only brought Ser Arthur and Ser Alliser, along with a dozen capable warriors disguised as attendants, pulling several carriages. He stood opposite the Good Masters' group, appearing weak in comparison.
Grazdan's fat face was wreathed in smiles, yet his eyes were devoid of warmth. "Your Majesty Targaryen. As previously agreed, all of Astapor's Unsullied are here—a total of ten thousand fully trained Spike Warriors and three thousand reserves. Please inspect the goods."
He made a gesture.
The Unsullied phalanxes began changing formation, demonstrating basic tactical movements. Their steps were uniform, silent, with only the dull sounds of spears cutting the air and shields clashing, displaying astonishing discipline.
"Now, please demonstrate your sincerity and present the promised treasures. Then, these Unsullied will belong to you. Astapor's honesty is unmatched throughout the world."
Viserys waved his hand, and the soldiers pulled the carriages forward. "These are the Valyrian treasures. You may inspect them."
Grazdan did not reply but exchanged a look with his son, signaling him to lead people to inspect the goods.
Once the inspection was complete, they saw no need to hide anymore. If they kept Viserys and everyone with him here, no one would know they had broken the contract.
"Hahaha, since the treasures are all here, there's no need for you to exist anymore."
However, Viserys ignored him, taking a few steps forward. His gaze slowly swept over the dense Unsullied phalanxes, over the numb faces, over the greedy Good Masters beneath the canopy, and over the slaves around them whose eyes held a mixture of servility, numbness, and fear.
Then he extended his hand. What he held was precisely the harpies scepter.
Under the sun, the golden scepter shone brightly.
The entire training ground instantly fell silent. Even the sound of the wind seemed to halt.
The smile on Grazdan's face froze, his pupils constricted, and a chill rushed from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. His son also jumped up abruptly, his face pale, pointing at the scepter, his lips trembling without being able to speak.
A slight noise echoed from the Unsullied phalanx—the sound of spear butts gently tapping the ground. The eyes of all the Unsullied were involuntarily drawn to that scepter. It was the symbol etched deep into their minds, the emblem of absolute obedience.
"Good Masters of Astapor," Viserys began, using magic to give his voice a strange penetrating power. "You sell slaves, forge chains, and use pain and death to create obedient puppets. You claim the Unsullied have no fear, no desire, only obedience. I heard that whoever holds this Scepter can command them."
He paused, raising the Scepter high so everyone could see it clearly.
"Well, now I hold it."
Grazdan finally reacted, roaring hysterically, "You are a thief! Guards, seize him, take back the Scepter! Unsullied, obey my command, kill this thief, kill him!" He waved his arms, attempting to rely on his authority to regain command.
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