* SECOND MONTH: NEW GHIS - SECOND DAY*
Noon.
Sun straight above New Ghis, no shadow. Brick burned feet even through boots.
Aegon stood at the broken outer gate in his black Targaryen uniform, coat off now, sleeves rolled, boots dusty with blood from yesterday. Behind him, ten thousand tired — Unsullied shields dented, freedmen bandaged.
In front, inner city.
New Ghis had built two cities. Outer for trade, inner for war. Inner wall higher, thicker, no gates but one — steel gate, and behind it, three thousand legionaries in full lockstep, not the half-trained outer guards. Real Ghiscari Iron Legion. Unsullied had been made to imitate them.
Grey Worm said, low: "They will not break."
Aegon nodded. "We try."
"For freedom!" he shouted, and led again.
Second siege began at noon bell.
They pushed carts, ladders, rams made from outer gate wood. Arrows came thicker this time — not Ghiscari arrows, but Myrish crossbows, punching through shields.
Aegon ran first, red katana out.
*"Wind Breathing — Second Form: Claws of the Purifying Wind!"*
Five air claws — crossbowmen on wall fell, throats cut.
*"Thunder Breathing — First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"*
Thunder cracked. He vanished, appeared at base of inner wall, boots skidding on stone. He cut at steel gate — SPARK — katana bounced. Too thick. Ghiscari steel, old Valyrian mix.
"Ram! Bring ram!" Daario shouted.
Unsullied brought ram — trunk of tree with iron head. Twenty men.
Aegon put shoulder with them. "One! Two!"
BOOM. Gate shook, didn't move.
From above, oil. This time wind couldn't push all. Boiling oil splashed, freedmen screaming, skin melting. Grey Worm pulled them back.
Legion opened murder holes, spears stabbing down. Aegon cut spears, but one got his shoulder — black uniform tore, blood hot.
*"Thunder Breathing — Fifth Form: Heat Lightning!"*
He flashed up the wall itself, feet on brick, lightning dash, cutting murder hole shutters, but inner legion just closed second shutter. Too many layers.
They tried ladders. Ladders went up — pushed down. Freedmen fell twenty feet, necks broke.
Aegon jumped down, landed hard, boots cracking brick.
*"Wind Breathing — Fourth Form: Rising Dust Storm!"*
He spun, wind tornado, trying to lift gate — wind howled, dust blinded, but steel gate held. Iron Legion behind it braced with backs, chanting old Ghiscari war chant.
Two hours. No progress.
Sun burned hotter. Men fainted in black boots.
Grey Worm grabbed Aegon arm. "My king — we cannot. Wall too thick, no dragon."
Aegon looked at gate — dented but standing. At wall — no cracks. At his men — bleeding, tired, ten dead, fifty wounded.
His dragon circled high, watching, not allowed to breathe.
He breathed, thunder still crackling around him but low now.
"Fall back!" he shouted. "FALL BACK TO OUTER CITY!"
Unsullied obeyed instantly, shields locked retreating. Freedmen dragged wounded.
Legion on wall cheered, banging spears: "GHIS! GHIS! GHIS!"
Aegon stood last, outside gate, katana dripping, black uniform soaked with sweat and blood, boots in bloody sand, staring at gate he could not break.
For first time in Slaver's Bay, he had failed.
He turned, walking back through broken outer gate, men silent.
Behind him, New Ghis inner city still held.
And System burned cold:
> *New Ghis: NOT CONQUERED*
> *Time Left: 4 months*
Noon passed, defeat in sun.