chapter 21 astapar

The sun beat down mercilessly on my Dothraki horde as we neared the gates of Astapor, a city built on blood and the death of slaves. Behind me, 300,000 souls rode—160,000 Dothraki riders, the thunder of their hooves like a storm on the horizon, and 25,000 soldiers of my own, hardened and loyal. Among my gaint horde of people, the women, children, elderly, and slaves trailed in a massive convoy. A force of sheer might that no one could ignore even if they aren't armed they could trample men to death.

"Khal," Drogo grunted beside me, a mountain of a man whose presence was as formidable as the weapon strapped across his back. To my left, the Hound walked, massive and silent, a permanent scowl carved into his burned face. We were an intimidating sight to be sure, but none of us more daunting than the spectacle infront of us . Astapor's red brick walls stood high, yet they could never withstand the sheer force gathered at their gates. And I wasn't going to leave anyone behind in that city with walls, and decent shelter for my people unlike vaes dothrak.

As we approached, the gate creaked open, and I was greeted by a familiar sight. There she was—Missandei. Younger than I remembered from stories of Daenerys, but just as captivating. Her skin was flawless, a smooth, deep brown, her body swaying with grace as she walked toward us, eyes wary but respectful. I was caught off guard for a moment, not by her beauty alone, but by the sudden surge of desire that tightened my core. For the first time, I felt alive in a way I hadn't before.

The gods are good, I thought, feeling a heat rise in my chest and lower still, but I kept my face a mask of calm. The woman before me was more than just a pretty face—she was a key to my plans.

"Tell your masters I'm here to purchase every Unsullied they have," I said, voice even but carrying authority. Behind me, 100 of my best men stepped forward, opening the heavy chests they carried, filled with gold bars and coins.

Missandei bowed slightly, her eyes flicking to the wealth before her, then meeting mine "As you wish, my lord," she replied, her voice smooth as silk. She turned to return to the city, her hips swaying slightly, and I caught myself staring. Drogo noticed but said nothing, though I saw the slight smirk tugging at his lips.

Inside Astapor's walls, it became clear these Masters had no idea what was about to befall them. The city could easily hold the population i had, and soon, it would be mine. Two grotesquely fat men, draped in silks and drowning in gaudy jewelry, met me with greedy smiles. The stench of overindulgence clung to them as they ogled the gold.

"You've heard right, young man. The Unsullied are the finest slave-soldiers in the world. We have 20,000 at the moment." One of them wheezed, a disgusting leer spreading across his face.

"How much?" I asked, my voice cold and sharp.

"Two million in gold if you want them all any less and its 1000 a man" he said, eyes locked on the chests.

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral despite the absurdity of the price. "I have the funds," I said. "You'll need time to count it, of course."

"Of course, of course!" The other Master, no less grotesque, chimed in, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the riches.

As we left the negotiation, Drogo walked beside me, silent for a moment before speaking.

"My Khal, will you truly spend so much on so few soldiers? That gold could feed our people for years."

I smirked. "Relax, Drogo. Not a single coin will be spent. You'll see."

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The next morning arrived quickly. After the Masters sent their men to count the gold, which took a full day, we returned to the city with my group of 100 soldiers. Astapor was calm, but tension clung to the air like a heavy mist. The training yard was massive, filled with ranks of Unsullied standing eerily still, 20,000 of them just in this section alone.

One of the Masters beamed at me, holding out the ceremonial whip, a disgusting symbol of ownership at least in his hands. His grin was wide, and nose oily. He had no idea his end was near.

"The money has been counted. Would you like a demonstration?" He reached for a knife, no doubt planning to mutilate one of the Unsullied to prove their obedience.

"No need," I said sharply, waving him off. "They are mine now."

He smiled, handing me the whip, a symbol of my ownership. Before his smile could stretch any further, my hand was already moving—dagger in hand, I buried it into his chest, twisting it as he gasped in shock. The look of greed in his eyes faded into disbelief.

I turned to the Unsullied, raising the whip.

"You are my men now. And your first task as my men is to kill every Master in this city. Empty their homes, tear down their legacy. Kill anyone who stands in your way and any slave that doesnt raise up arms leave them."

The reaction was immediate. Without hesitation, the Unsullied surged forward, their spears cutting down Masters, slavers, and any who dared to resist. Drogo and the Hound were already at the gates, opening them to let in my Dothraki horde. 140,000 riders surrounded the city, ensuring no one would escape.

The screams and chaos lasted for hours, but by the time the fires were extinguished looks like someone wanted to cause trouble but, Astapor was mine. The heads of the Masters were lined up outside the city, their wealth confiscated, their legacy erased.

Drogo stood at my side, his face alight with approval. "The city is yours, my Khal. What now?"

I smiled, already thinking of my next move. "Let our people in. Find all who have worth—the builders, the skilled, the laborers. They will rebuild anything that has taken fire damage or any other damage"

With that, I headed toward the mansion I had claimed, where Missandei waited. This time, no one would interrupt me.

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The reason the masters talked to the mc is because he's a man and because unlike daenerys he had 165 thousand men ready to kill at their gates which garners respect or more like fear even from some pigs rich for the slaughter well I hope you all like this chapter have a nice rest of your day