After traveling westward along the dockside street for half an hour, a vast river over five kilometers wide appeared ahead.
The river surged forward like a thousand galloping horses, endlessly flowing into the bay.
This was the Rhoyne River—the mother river of the Rhoynar people.
Leaving the coastline, the elephant-drawn carriage turned north along the riverbank, entering the eastern part of Volantis.
Even as darkness fell, and despite being several kilometers away, Dany could still see the towering black walls in the north.
Volantis was the eldest daughter of Valyria—the first colonial city-state established beyond the Lands of Long Summer, or rather, an outpost.
At that time, the Rhoyne had its own rulers: the Rhoynar, who once dominated the western continent of Essos.
Thus, this outpost was built with exceptional fortifications, using the same construction techniques as the Endless Sky Tower and the Valyrian Road—what High Priest Oros called "Immortal Stone."
Immortal Stone did not refer to any specific type of rock but was created by melting stone through a special process, infusing it with magical runes, and casting it into molds to forge monolithic structures. The resulting massive stone buildings were practically indestructible.
For example, the thousands of kilometers of the Valyrian Road were a single continuous structure. The 300-meter-tall, intricately designed Endless Sky Tower was also one solid piece.
The enormous oval walls of the DC district were no exception—standing 60 meters high and over 15 meters thick, built to accommodate the landing of dragonlords.
Volantis boasted a naturally advantageous seaport. After the dragonlords tamed the plains along the Rhoyne, the city expanded rapidly.
Within the black walls on the eastern bank resided the old nobility, whose bloodlines could be traced back to Valyria. Outside the walls, the newly expanded districts were packed with the homes, shops, and inns of wealthy Valyrian freemen.
The western bank, however, was a chaotic cesspool, populated by foreign travelers, seafarers, impoverished freemen, mercenaries, runaway criminals, eunuchs, pirates, and pickpockets.
Even shadowbinders and necromancers from Asshai lurked among them.
A long bridge connected the eastern and western cities.
As a foreign traveler, Dany disembarked at the docks and headed north along the Rhoyne into the DC district. She then crossed the long bridge to reach the Merchant's House Inn in the XC district.
Dusk had faded, and night enveloped the land. Shops, inns, and street vendors on both sides of the road lit up parchment lanterns and colorful glass oil lamps, casting rings of multicolored light onto the gray stone pavement.
Under these lights, pedestrians were alternately bathed in green, then red, then purple, then orange.
The surrounding air was filled with noise, mingling with the strange yet enticing scent of roasted meat from steaming street vendors. For a moment, Dany felt as if she had stepped into a modern-night market.
As she neared the long bridge leading to the eastern XC district, the streets grew even more congested. They were packed with horse-drawn carts, handcarts, and elephant carriages loaded with goods.
Most of these vehicles were either heading toward the bridge or had just crossed from the other side.
Slaves were as numerous as cockroaches in a trash heap, scurrying about to complete their masters' errands.
Even the "Cadillac" atop the elephant's back dared not bellow at pedestrians to make way, as it had done in the dockside district.
The people entering the long bridge were not to be trifled with. Among them were not only the black-walled nobility riding elephants but also wealthy merchants and high-paying travelers in lavish carriages.
At the entrance of the bridge stood a black stone archway, intricately carved with sphinxes, manticore-like creatures, dragons, and other exotic beasts.
Beyond the gate, the long bridge, like the black walls and the Endless Sky Tower, was built from molten stone. It rested on massive pillars, standing unshakable at the river's turbulent estuary, spanning the two-kilometer-wide river like an unyielding monolith.
In "Long-Legged" Lomas' writings, this long bridge was counted among the Nine Great Architectural Wonders of the Known World, alongside the Wall in the North and the Grand Pyramid of Old Ghis.
It was a masterpiece of Valyria's golden age.
The bridge's roadway was just wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side. When vehicles from both directions met, they had to slow down. Dany and the other youth in an elephant carriage were soon separated by the crowd as they crossed.
Meanwhile, a corpulent man riding an elephant moved leisurely northward, unbothered. His posture and demeanor radiated superiority—he was returning to the black walls.
Just before they parted at the bridge entrance, the fat man cast a lecherous glance at Dany and extended an invitation.
"Lady, though your blood is not as noble as mine, you clearly have Valyrian traits. The filthy western city is no place for you. Why not stay at my home for a while?"
Then, lifting his thick, double chin proudly, he added, "I am from the great Chloris family within the black walls. You should know, ordinary people could never set foot inside without an invitation from someone within."
His manner was reminiscent of a wealthy second-generation heir stopping a red Ferrari in front of Dany, lowering the window, stylishly removing his sunglasses, raising his chin, and asking, "Wanna ride?"
"Thank you for the invitation, but I will enter the black walls—just not tonight," Dany replied with a polite smile, declining.
The fat man said nothing further, merely nodded, and rode off on his elephant.
The long bridge was packed with people, the air thick with stench. Dany held her nose with a rolled-up cloth, uninterested in the scenery, and spent half an hour squeezing through the crowd before finally reaching the western city.
After finally clearing the congested roads near the bridge, the elephant carriage turned onto a wide western street, picking up speed again. The blonde coachman turned and grinned at Dany.
"Don't worry, miss. We'll be at Fishmonger's Square soon."
Before he could finish his sentence, a sudden commotion erupted at the crossroads ahead.
Moments later, two lines of Unsullied—twelve in total—emerged from a corner, jogging forward with spears in hand.
"Make way! Make way for the Consul!" they shouted.
The coachman hastily steered the white elephant to the roadside and quickly dismounted, kneeling obediently beneath the elephant's belly.
Dany stood on tiptoe and saw that aside from their spiked helmets, the Unsullied's gear had completely changed.
Their full suits of armor gleamed golden, and they wore vibrant tiger-skin cloaks.
In terms of grandeur, they far outshone her own dusty little followers.
The Unsullied cleared the way, followed by four or five dozen soldiers in tiger robes, escorting a massive gray beast as it turned the corner.
The giant elephant stood three meters tall, draped in exquisite, color-enamel armor that shimmered like rippling water under the lights with every step it took.
On its back was a towering howdah, so high that as it passed through an intricately carved stone arch at the intersection, the wooden rooftop scraped against the stone, producing a sharp, grating sound.
"I heard that the governor's status is so esteemed that during their year in office, their feet must never touch the ground. Wherever they go, they must ride an elephant," Barristan whispered to Dany.
"Heh, from birth to death, the Valyrian dragonlords perched atop their sky-high towers never once set foot on the earth. Now that their descendants have lost their dragons, they can only ride elephants," Dany mocked.
"Moo—" The giant beast let out a long, resonant call.
"Half the city probably heard that, huh? With a daily patrol like this, the entire city knows when the governor is making their rounds," Dany gritted her teeth and scratched her ear.
"The Governor of Volantis approaches!" A tall soldier in a tiger-striped robe shouted from the front.
After the Doom, the people of Volantis naturally saw themselves as the rightful successors of the Freehold—hence, the rulers of the world.
However, they did not agree on how to govern it. The old nobility believed in military strength, while the merchants and moneylenders advocated for trade.
Around these two ideologies, factions gradually formed in the struggle for the city's leadership—the Tiger Party and the Elephant Party.
The Tiger Cloaks originated from the radical Tiger Party. They wore tiger-helmeted armor, had green tattooed stripes on their cheeks, and were all slave soldiers.
"Do you think they might turn to my side? Volantis, along with the towns along the Rhoyne River, has about thirty to forty thousand Tiger Cloaks," Dany said with an unreadable expression.
"Look," the old man pointed at the tall officer who ran a few steps before calling out a rhythmic chant, speaking in a low voice. "Their spirit is entirely different from the slave soldiers of Slaver's Bay. Instead, they resemble the Gold Cloaks of King's Landing—proud and confident."
Dany sighed and said nothing more.
Once the governor's procession had passed, Qhadi grabbed the strap tied around the elephant's belly and nimbly swung himself onto its back like a monkey.
Just then, a carriage drawn by elephants rolled up behind Dany, and she heard someone inside sneer before spitting, "Heh, the governor of Volantis will only be powerful for six more days."
The person beside him nodded in agreement. "The alliance is already settled. Of the three governors, two have openly expressed their strong hostility toward that woman. Only he has urged caution. The people behind the Black Walls will never elect him again."
The two carriages soon diverged at an intersection, each taking a different street. Dany, deep in thought, mused, "This trip was truly worth it. If I hadn't come in person, I wouldn't have realized how united Volantis is in its determination to wage war against me."
"It's not just Volantis. I suspect that Qarth, New Ghis, Lys, and other city-states are in a similar state. But, my lady, you need not worry too much," the old man reassured her in a low voice. "The Mother of Dragons' enemies are always just the elite few at the top. The common people are like water, shifting with the tides."
"Dong-dong-dong."
"Dang-dang-dang."
Ahead, rhythmic beats of bronze gongs and floral drums echoed through the streets, accompanied by the melodious sounds of long flutes and the gentle twangs of harps, forming a lively yet not overly noisy tune.
Dany turned her head, looking past the elephant's rear, and saw a long procession of torchbearers slowly approaching.
Surrounded by the torchbearers were various street performers—a pair of juggling dwarfs, a clown with bizarrely shaped cow legs and hooves, a stilt-walking girl singing at the top of her lungs, and a man dressed in dazzling golden leather, his face painted just as brightly, riding a white lion and flaunting a golden banner.
These performers and torchbearers all had one thing in common—the prominent twin dragon-and-crown sigil painted on the backs of their clothes.
Someone in the street muttered, "Must be a troupe hired by Marqos."
"Moo!"
Behind the entertainers and torchbearers was a massive elephant-drawn carriage.
On the side of the elephant, glowing powder had been used to write a huge name—"The People's Hero, Marqos." Seated on a cushioned throne at the back of the carriage stood a young Valyrian noble with silver hair.
Holding a gleaming brass horn, he loudly proclaimed, "Free citizens of the western district! Just like you, my father, Marqos, is a free citizen. Only he can represent the ordinary free folk!
For you, for your families, for our shared interests—vote for Marqos!"
Dany's lips twitched. She suddenly felt as if she had traveled back in time, watching a modern political campaign on a news channel.
A blond, chubby man standing behind a grilled sausage stall hollered, "Little Dak, your father Marqos is a good man, but most of the free citizens on this street aren't even eligible to vote! You'd be better off canvassing near the Black Walls instead of interrupting our business."
Only those Volantene free citizens who met the wealth requirements could vote. In the western district, barely anyone had that right. Even in the eastern district, it was difficult for commoners to gain voting privileges.
On the surface, the Volantene governor elections seemed democratic, but in truth, they were just a game for the rich and the noble.
A burly middle-aged woman stepped out from a nearby shop with a sign reading "Great Dragon General Store." Her voice was even louder than the sausage seller's. "Go somewhere else, Little Dak! Tell your father to give up already. Without noble blood, who's going to vote for him?"
"Heh, Aunt Chloe, don't you have voting rights? Why not cast your vote for my father?" The silver-haired youth on the elephant carriage grinned.
"Come down here," the woman, as hefty as the eunuch Belwas, waved at him. "Spend a night with me, and my vote will be your father's."
"Hahaha!"
The entire street erupted in laughter. Under the torchlight's glow, Little Dak's face turned beet red. He no longer cared about winning votes—he only urged the elephant driver to move faster.
"Chloe, you should've said that to him in private," the sausage vendor teased. "Out here on the street, even if he wanted to, he wouldn't dare!"
Another wave of laughter rolled through the crowd.
(End of chapter)
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