Azrael, a language teacher in his old life, transported to the world of ice and fire for no apparent reason, left in a desert near the Dothraki sea, without knowing how he got there and his purpose, must go through tribulations and trials in order to survive in a world full of betrayal, death, hunger, wars and supernatural beings, being his only weapon the little knowledge about the world and a creative Minecraft menu at his disposal. ---------------- --------- For readers who dive into my story, the protagonist will not be op, since I don't have the idea of the protagonist as such in that way, but he will have tools and methods that will make his life easier, which will be largely based on Minecraft's creative menu and his general knowledge of the world. Now, if you decide to read it, I could use your reviews, so this book can reach more people and at the same time motivate me to keep writing. Patreon if you want to help me and read ahead. patreon.com/Dreamer392 Discord: https://discord.gg/2zSPT88TdV
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~~~Azrael Jaesyrian, seventh moon, 276 AC~~~
~~~Meereen~~~
In two hours, the greatest slave city in the world fell. Years of torment and death, made the thousands of slaves living in the city rise against all those who had kept them under their shoes.
Those hints and ideas of rebellion given by the witches to every slave in the city bore fruit, causing the city to fall in a short time.
Even the plan to use the sewers of the city to attack it from within became futile once the slaves rebelled; it was better than I had thought at first.
With the disorder caused in the city, and ensuring that no innocents were near the gates, the devastators did their job splendidly. Two devastators were enough to break through the eastern gate of the city and allow the Dothraki hordes to pass into the city.
That created more chaos in the city, and the previous cries of bravery and fervor of the masters' soldiers turned into wails and cries of fear, unable to do anything against thousands of battle-hardened and well-armed warriors. It was carnage.
All the chaos lasted approximately thirty minutes, during which time the Dothraki were wiping out every soldier or mercenary in the city, while at the same time giving swords to the slaves to fight for their freedom as well.
It wasn't long before I was upon Cannibal, riding through the red streets and bodies everywhere, with the strong smell of death and decay brushing my nose, as the gutters of the streets dragged several cold, bloated bodies.
That was what was not shown in the wars: the deaths of many people who didn't even know each other because of the ambition of others. I never knew those men who died defending their masters and this city, and now less I would, but at least I knew that they had died fighting for what they believed was right, so they died as warriors.
Other than that, the slaves raised their weapons above their heads, as they cheered for the freedom they had gained, weeping with happiness and peace. Many call me Priya, which translates into the common tongue would-be father. This made me smile internally, as in some parts of Asia that name was a woman's name, though in others it meant beloved or wanted man.
That got me thinking that perhaps every word was twisted, since even regarding the enigmatic name of the prince who was betrothed, in Valyrian it has a neutral gender, so it could be either a woman or a man, and while I remembered that the one who killed the night king was Arya, the truth was I did not know if this world had things from the saga of the books, although already at this point, that did not affect me, and I had perhaps the largest army in the world.
Besides, I didn't worry about maintaining a permanent army, since the food and gold to maintain it were not difficult to get, so, in the foreground, it offered me a huge advantage.
Mind you, in the arcane sector I was still unprotected, at least to some extent, and the demon event made that very clear, but even so, the enchanted weapons offered atrocious help against those entities, so even if I faced the night king shown in the series, I had a good chance of killing him and coming out victorious.
That is, as long as no variables appeared or even the gods of this world seemed more like myths than reality.
The surviving masters had been taken to a large combat pit, a huge circular pit built with multicolored bricks similar in structure but smaller than the ancient Colosseum of Ancient Rome.
The one I was in was the largest and most extravagant; as I understood it, it belonged to a man named Daznak. Many of the masters were now in horrendous situations, wounded, and mutilated, without their status, whips, jewelry, or even their Tokars, as many were naked. Some with odd tastes had taken them.
Most were begging for mercy and forgiveness, crying their eyes out, and even pleading on their knees, all looking pathetic and miserable. "When your envoys arrived in Xandar, they told my entire court words full of ego and pride. I still remember their words, Great were the free cities; that no power I had would dent their control over the slave bay; to give up the slaves I had freed, to give up MY city, those were all empty words, with no real power to give them weight!"
Many looked at me with anger and spite, even some with malice etched in their eyes. "Hahaha!" laughing, I turned to my blood riders. "Kill them," I ordered, watching as my blood riders drew their arakh with cruel smiles on their faces. Even after being educated in certain fields, such as letters, numbers, politics, finance, and languages, they still had that wild nature in their blood, loving blood and battle above all, while remaining loyal.
"Wait!" I heard a loud shout, and I saw that it was a fat old woman coming running towards where my blood riders were about to kill the good masters.
She couldn't make much headway when she was greeted by the low growl of my wolves, which saw her as an appetizer. "What do you want?" Zirqo asked, grabbing the old woman and bringing her in front of me.
"Don't hurt them; several are my children, please," the old woman pleaded, which gave me a chance to get a good look at her. She was wearing light green garments, with several modest jewelry pieces around her neck. "Why the fuck would I do that? They are my prisoners now, and they will die soon."
"As will you," the old woman said, only to have hundreds of men come in wearing Tokar and wearing golden masks on their faces. "Akein Makey!" I shouted, giving an order in a code language and watching as the Dothraki nearby made a large circle around me.
"I want no prisoners!" I said, then climbing onto Cannibal and starting a small battle in the fighting pit, the sons of the Harpy, as I think they were called, fought bravely, but thanks to carrying no weapons of good repair and no armor, they were lambs to the slaughter.
Especially when they faced the wolves or the Dothraki more devoted to me, both of whom would kill anyone wearing a mask while shouting 'for the great Khal' or the like.
"Your trick won't save you," I said to the old woman, as I spurred Cannibal and made him come to her.
The old woman bolted, but she was no faster than my horse, causing her head to come off her body the moment I was closest to her and she to my sword.
Many of the harpy's children were surprised when they saw that I killed the old woman, with some fighting more than before; too bad it didn't change anything. "Kill them all; I don't want any of them alive!"
A second wave of death and blood filled the pit, with thousands of bodies strewn in various places, along with arms and body parts strewn about. A well-trained army could do wonders, even if it was engaged in combat against a levy three times its size.
"Take out the city; take everything of value—every coin, jewel, garment, even painting—I want them all!" I ordered, receiving a standing ovation from everyone, "I don't want unnecessary deaths! And Valka, take care of handing out potions to the slaves."
"As Your Majesty commands," Valka replied, smiling at me in that provocative manner so characteristic of her.
Immediately, more than two hundred thousand men began to enter the pyramids, take everything of value, murder the few masters still alive inside the pyramids, and even take their dogs.
"What are your plans now, Mi Khal?" Cakoqqo asked, yearning for more battles, being perhaps the greatest lover of war among my eight horsemen.
"Patience, my friend, patience," I told him, watching as his eyes glittered, waiting for my answer. "For the moment, let us wait for the sacking to end; after that, and I take care of destroying every foundation of this cursed city, we will move to Yunkai, where your arakh will again draw blood."
"I like that idea," commented Cakoqqo, encouraged by the matter.
"Good," I dismissed him, as I started levitating, "everyone gets out of the city once you're done with yours."
After saying that, I flew up to a great height, surpassing the height of the tallest pyramid, observing the multicolored city, now engulfed in flames and death.
At the heights, I managed to connect with deeper parts of me, one of those was the opportunity to dissociate my actions, which were not always all correct, but I always kept in mind my welfare and the welfare of those around and following me, that's why I forced the Dothraki's behavior to change, along with freeing the slaves, all to bring something to this rotten world.
That's why I was now flying over Meereen, as I was watching the last people leaving the city.
Opening the Minecraft menu, I picked up the Structures block. Something peculiar about this block was that it didn't materialize; rather, it was as if a door opened in my mind, in which I could feel the block and use it.
At the same time, I was able to feel everything that the block encompassed, from the air to the dirt of the wind, even being able to control the size of its embrace just by thinking about it.
So after encompassing a large expanse in the air, I thought to put that away, and, like a cold breath on the back of my neck, I knew it was all done. Once I felt that everything was in order, I flew to the center of the city and, concentrating, this time I felt the whole city, the streets, buildings, and even the rocks and flagstones that made up the cobblestone streets.
"Goodbye, Meereen," I said, accompanied by a sigh, thinking not to keep what I felt, but to carry what I had kept before.
Immediately, I saw how the buildings were beginning to melt, the streets were cracking, and the ground was turning green. The whole city was disappearing from top to bottom, without leaving any brick, earthenware, or cloth that showed the existence of a great city just a few minutes ago. Just like that, and in just three minutes, a legendary city disappeared.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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