Chapter 452: Attack on the Royal Forest

The insurrection in Pentos, planned by the traitors, had been foreseen by Ramsay's internal department, who had swiftly informed the Prime Minister and the Princess. Traps were laid, capturing the conspirators all at once.

The rebellion lasted but a short time, quickly quelled by the city's guard and the Unsullied.

Those who had joined the Second Son were slain or wounded, many killed on the spot, the rest captured and thrown into the dungeons.

The Ragged Prince, having taken part in the rebellion, was assassinated by the internal department's killers. His crimes were made public, earning the scorn of the people of Pentos.

Come the dawn of the next day.

Prisoners were extracted from the dungeons, their hands bound with ropes, and lined up beneath the Nine Towers Palace on the hill, kneeling down in a dense crowd.

They were mercenaries who had joined the rebellion, former members of the Windblown, even remnants of the ruling family of Pentos and old nobility.

Because the scene was destined to be bloody, Daenerys chose not to attend in person, but Prime Minister Jon Clinton was there to oversee the execution.

Pentos' magistrate read aloud their crimes, and with a single command, the executioners' blades fell, hundreds of heads rolling, blood staining the ground.

Their heads were then hung high on the city walls of Pentos, impaled on long spears, becoming a horrifying spectacle.

Citizens of Pentos gathered to watch, throwing dung and rotten eggs, celebrating their liberation from these vampires.

And foreign merchants traveling to the Pearl of the Bay could look up and see those heads hanging above them.

A chill ran through them, and in Pentos, they took extra care, respecting local laws, not daring to cheat or monopolize.

Overall, the rebellion in Pentos had a small impact.

With the advantage of foresight, the net was cast quickly, without much destruction.

Prime Minister Jon Clinton personally inspected, and peace and normality were restored to the city that very day.

Meanwhile, tens of miles outside the city of Pentos in the royal forest...

No one knew that after the white dragon Viserion spread its wings and flew away, a group of masked black-clothed men had broken into this forbidden land.

"Halt!"

"Who goes there!"

A voice rang out in the woods, startled and angry, as if encountering an attack.

Clang, clang—

Soon after, the sounds of intense battle erupted, metal clashing and screams filling the air.

Before long, the bodies of Targaryen patrol soldiers were strewn across the ground, while the black-clothed figures moved swiftly away.

They were well-trained, coordinated, and their purpose was clear: they were after the Targaryens' dragon-keeping grounds.

After killing the guards, they headed deeper into the royal forest.

Swish, swish, swish—

The black-clothed figures moved quickly through the forest, utterly silent, no one speaking.

Usually, the two royal forests of the Targaryens, one in Andalos and one in Pentos, were considered some of the most dangerous places on the Essos continent, thanks to the presence of Balerion, Rhaegal, and Viserion.

The royal forest was vast and complex in terrain, so there weren't many patrol soldiers needed; it was impossible to protect it fully.

And the local villagers would not dare hunt there, for entering the royal forest was illegal, punishable by fine or even loss of a hand or life.

But now, Balerion and Rhaegal were away with Viserys and Rhaenys in Westeros.

The only dragon left to guard, Viserion, had also just left, leaving behind five young dragons only months old, reducing the danger of this forbidden land.

And these people had their sights set on these young dragons.

Many forces on the Essos continent coveted the Targaryens' dragons.

But the grown dragons were too powerful and dangerous, not something they could target, so they turned their attention to the newly born young dragons.

"Be careful."

"Young dragons are no rats, not so easy to deal with."

As they reached the depths of the royal forest, the air filled with the unique scent of dragons, becoming dry and hot, even the animals growing scarce.

Perhaps sensing the danger, the leader of the black-clothed men, wearing a mask, spoke in a low voice.

A flash of red hair showed at his temples, and he spoke with a Lorathi accent.

The black-clothed figures behind him remained silent, their hands ready with various tools for capturing dragons, such as special nets, chains, rope darts, and crossbows.

This mission was nearly their entire force, everyone deployed, carrying an important task on their shoulders.

The future safety of the free world, untouched by worldly power, defending the glory of the Many-Faced God, all lay in this mission.

The leader's eyes flashed beneath his mask, and he sighed, taking a silver coin from his pocket and tossing it into the air, then catching it.

He looked at the coin, showing the 'ominous' side, and fell silent.

But then he raised his hand, tapping the wooden mask on his forehead.

Crack—

The wooden mask made a crisp sound.

Then his tone changed, speaking in the cold High Valyrian.

"All men must die."

The faces of the black-clothed figures behind him became solemn, and they bowed their heads in unison.

"All men must serve."