The army of Pentos arrived at dawn on the tenth day.
Marcos saw them from the Command Tower long before they arrived. First, there was dust on the horizon. Then blurry figures. Finally, the horrifying clarity of eighteen hundred men marching in formation.
"There they are," Garrett said, peering through the telescope. "And they brought... is that a battering ram? Really?"
"Three battering rams," Marcos corrected. "And siege towers. And catapults. And what appears to be... giant ladders?"
"They're prepared for a traditional siege." Mero laughed. "They have no idea what awaits them."
Daenerys stood to one side, clad in reinforced leather armor that Mark had created specifically for her. She had a short sword at her belt, and a bow and arrows on her back. She looked like a warrior.
She looked terrified.
Marcos approached.
- Are you OK?
"No." Daenerys swallowed. "I've never been in a battle. I've never seen people die. And I'm about to see both."
— You can stay inside. Coordinate with security. No one will judge you.
"No." Her voice hardened. "You said I'm a co -leader. Leaders don't hide." She looked at him. "But I can be scared and brave at the same time, right?"
"That's literally the definition of bravery." Marcos smiled at her. " Stay with me. I'll protect you."
Pentos army stopped five hundred meters from the walls.
It was an impressive formation. Organized ranks of soldiers in various armor. Professional mercenaries at the front, city guards on the flanks. Banners of the forty Magistrates waving in the wind.
And at the head of it all, mounted on a white horse, was an obese man in golden robes that could only belong to one person.
" Illyrio ," Marcos murmured. "The son of a bitch came in person."
" Do you see Viserys ?" Daenerys asked in a tense voice.
Marcos scanned with his enhanced vision.
"Yes. In the back. With an escort of twenty men. He's wearing armor he clearly doesn't know how to use." He paused. "He looks... ridiculous, honestly."
Daenerys felt a mixture of sadness and relief.
Illyrio shouted in an amplified voice (probably magically):
—TO THE OCCUPANTS OF ASTORIA! I AM MAGISTER ILLYRIO MOPATIS, REPRESENTING THE FORTY MAGISTRATES OF PENTOS! YOU HAVE ONE LAST CHANCE TO SURRENDER!
Marcos activated his own magical amplification.
—I AM MARCOS VIDAL, FOUNDER OF THE EMPIRE OF ASTORIA! AND MY ANSWER IS: GO TO HELL, FATSO!
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Then some of the Pentos soldiers laughed. Even some of the mercenaries seemed amused.
Illyrio turned red with fury.
—IS THAT YOUR FINAL ANSWER?!
—YES ! ALTHOUGH I CAN ADD MORE INSULTS IF YOU WANT! I HAVE A LIST!
Garrett whispered to him:
—Boss, maybe this isn't the best time to provoke them.
"On the contrary. It's exactly the right time. I want them to attack in anger. Angry people make mistakes." Marcos smiled. "Besides, it's fun."
Illyrio gestured to his commanders.
—PREPARE THE ATTACK! I WANT THAT FORTRESS DESTROYED BEFORE NIGHTFALL!
The soldiers began to move. The battering rams advanced. The siege towers began to be pushed. The catapults took position.
He was a professional war machine.
And Marcos was about to break it.
"Garrett, signal," he ordered calmly.
Garrett raised the red flag.
The archers took up their positions on the walls.
In the towers, the Redstone catapults were activated.
And on the ground, invisible traps awaited.
"Here we go," Marcos murmured.
The first to attack were the battering rams.
Three groups of twenty men each, pushing massive logs with metal heads, protected by shields in testudo (Roman tortoise) formation.
It was a solid tactic against normal defenses.
But these were not normal defenses.
The battering rams advanced towards the main gates.
Fifty meters.
Forty.
Thirty.
Twenty.
Then they stepped into the trap zone.
The ground beneath them instantly turned into quicksand.
Sixty men screamed as they sank to their knees, then their waists, then their chests.
The battering rams fell.
Chaos erupted.
" WHAT THE HELL?!" shouted one of the Pentos commanders .
Marcos peered out from the wall.
—I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT WE HAVE MAGIC TRAPS! SURPRISE!
" GET THEM OUT OF THERE!" ordered another commander.
Soldiers tried to rescue their trapped comrades.
Then the Redstone catapults were activated.
They weren't shooting rocks. They were shooting TNT blocks from Minecraft .
Three massive explosions lit up the field.
They weren't lethal (Marcos had calibrated them to stun, not kill), but the noise, the smoke, the shock wave...
Panic.
Pentos soldiers ran in all directions.
" MAINTAIN FORMATION!" the commanders shouted.
But fear is contagious.
Garrett looked at Marcos with enormous eyes.
—Boss... did you just use explosives?
"TNT from Minecraft . Technically, it's not an actual explosive. It's... a magical manifestation of concussive force ." Marcos shrugged. "Semantics."
— You're absolutely insane.
-Thank you.
Illyrio , from behind, was shouting orders.
—REORGANIZE ! IT'S JUST MAGIC! YOU CAN BE DEFEATED!
" Do you want more magic?" Marcos murmured . "I'll give you more magic."
He raised both hands.
He channeled his power from Anos.
The sky over the battlefield darkened.
It wasn't a natural night. It was magical darkness, as if the sun had been turned off.
The soldiers looked up in terror.
Then Marcos created light.
But not normal light.
Light emanated from the Command Tower, illuminating him like a beacon. His eyes glowed crimson red. His voice resonated with amplified power:
—PENTOS SOLDIERS! LISTEN CAREFULLY! YOU ARE ATTACKING TERRITORY UNDER MY PROTECTION! EVERY STEP YOU TAKE TOWARDS THESE WALLS IS A STEP TOWARDS YOUR DEATH!
It was pure theater. Maximum drama.
And it worked.
Half of the soldiers were paralyzed with fear.
" DON'T LET THEM INTIMIDATE YOU!" he shouted. Illyrio — IT'S JUST TRICKS! MOVE FORWARD!
Some soldiers, the bravest or the most desperate, advanced.
Marcos sighed.
— Okay , I tried the peaceful way.
He snapped his fingers.
Stone pillars emerged from the ground in front of the walls.
Not to attack. To block.
Thirty three-meter-high pillars appeared in seconds, forming an additional wall.
"That wasn't there five seconds ago," Daenerys said .
—Now we're talking. —Marcos smiled—. Instant construction benefits.
The soldiers of Pentos stopped, staring at the pillars in confusion.
Then one of the commanders, a big guy in heavy armor, shouted:
—THEY'RE JUST STONES! GO AROUND THEM! KEEP MOVING FORWARD!
The soldiers began to move around the pillars.
That's when the arrows started flying.
The archers of Astoria, one hundred in total (between guards and trained civilians), fired in coordinated waves.
It wasn't a massacre. Marcos had specifically ordered: aim for legs, arms, shoulders. Incapacitate, don't kill.
But fifty men fell screaming with arrows in their limbs.
" SHIELDS! RAISE YOUR SHIELDS!" shouted the commander.
The formation was reorganized. Shields up. Testudo appropriate.
They advanced.
Step by step.
They reached the pillars.
They passed between them.
And then Marcos activated the second trap.
The pillars exploded into dust.
It wasn't a lethal explosion. It was a massive cloud of rock dust that completely covered the area.
Zero visibility .
The soldiers coughed, shouted, and tripped over each other.
" NOW!" Garrett shouted.
The Second Sons, who had been waiting at the gates, came out.
Not to massacre. To capture.
In the confusion of the dust, they attacked with surgical precision. Non-lethal blows. Disarming. Tying up.
In three minutes, they had captured fifty soldiers.
Then they retreated behind the walls before the dust settled.
When visibility returned, the Pentos army saw:
Sixty men still trapped in quicksandFifty wounded by arrowsFifty capturedOne hundred and sixty casualties in total
And they hadn't even touched the walls.
The silence was absolute.
Illyrio looked on with a horrified expression.
—This... this isn't possible...
Viserys , from behind, shouted:
—COWARD ! COME OUT AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN!
Marcos heard it.
And he decided to do exactly that.
"Garrett, take command. Daenerys , stay here." He turned toward the door.
" Where are you going?" Daenerys asked in a panic.
"Let's finish this quickly." Marcos smiled. "I'm tired of playing."
He climbed down from the tower.
He walked towards the main doors.
"Boss, this is suicide," Mero said.
"Not if you're practically immortal." Marcos didn't stop.
The doors opened.
And Marcos Vidal walked alone towards sixteen hundred soldiers.
The silence was deafening.
Every step he took echoed.
He came within fifty meters of the army.
It stopped.
— Illyrio "Mopatis ," he said in an amplified voice. "You came here thinking this would be an easy siege. You thought you could crush me with numbers. You thought magic was a myth."
He raised his hand.
A fiery orb appeared floating above his palm.
"You learned differently. Now you have two options." The orb grew larger. "Option one: You withdraw . Now. You take your soldiers back to Pentos . You release the prisoners you have . You accept that Astoria is sovereign territory. And you never, EVER return ."
" And option two?" Illyrio shouted , his voice trembling.
—Option two: you keep attacking. And I stop playing. —Marcos's eyes flashed red—. So far I've only scared them. I've wounded them. I've captured some. But I haven't killed anyone. That was mercy.
The orb of fire became hell.
"If they force me, I'll show them what I'm really capable of. And when I'm done, nothing will be left of this army but ashes and regret."
It was not an empty threat.
Marcos channeled all his power.
The ground shook.
The air got warmer.
The magical pressure was so intense that several soldiers fell to their knees.
"LAST CHANCE," roared Marcos. "WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE?"
Illyrio watched in absolute terror.
The commanders murmured among themselves.
The soldiers looked to their leaders, waiting for orders.
Then, from behind, Viserys shouted:
—DON'T YOU DARE SURRENDER, ILLYRIO! THAT'S MY SISTER! SHE'S MY PROPERTY!
Marcos looked at him.
And at that moment, Daenerys appeared on the walls.
—VISERYS ! —His voice cut through the air.
Viserys saw her.
—DAENERYS ! RETURN IMMEDIATELY! I AM YOUR KING! I COMMAND YOU!
" YOU ARE NOT MY KING!" Daenerys screamed in a voice Marcos had never heard before. "YOU NEVER WERE! YOU SELLED ME OUT! YOU THREATENED ME! YOU TREATED ME LIKE TRASH!"
—I AM YOUR BROTHER!
" A brother doesn't do what you did to me!" Tears streamed down her face, but her voice was firm. "I chose to leave! I chose to stay here! And I'm never coming back to you!"
Viserys looked as if he had been slapped.
—You... you betrayed me...
" No! You betrayed me first! When you decided your imaginary throne was more important than my life!" Daenerys wiped away her tears. "Goodbye, Viserys ! I hope you'll one day understand what you've lost!"
He turned around and disappeared from sight.
Marcos felt immense pride.
Viserys , on the other hand, went into complete collapse.
" KILL HIM!" he shouted at Illyrio . "KILL THE SORCERER! DESTROY THAT FORTRESS! BRING ME MY SISTER! NOW!"
Illyrio completely ignored him.
He looked at Marcos.
He looked at his wounded, captured, terrified soldiers.
And he made a decision.
"We're leaving," he said quietly.
" WHAT?" Viserys stared at him in disbelief. "YOU CAN'T RETIRE!"
"I can, and I will." Illyrio turned to his commanders. "Order to retreat. Collect the wounded. We'll leave the captured. We're returning to Pentos ."
" COWARD! TRAITOR!" Viserys tried to attack Illyrio , but his own guards stopped him.
The commanders looked at Marcos.
Marcos dispelled the orb of fire.
The magic pressure disappeared.
Wise decision ." He nodded. "Go in peace. And remember: Astoria does not seek war. But it will end it if necessary."
Pentos ' army began to retreat.
Slowly at first. Then faster.
In half an hour, they had disappeared over the horizon.
Leaving behind only dust, blood, and one hundred and sixty prisoners.
Marcos stood still in the field, processing what had just happened.
There was no massive battle.
There was no massacre.
He had won through fear, theater, and an overwhelming display of power.
Garrett ran towards him.
—BOSS ! YOU DID IT! YOU SCARE THEM AWAY!
—We did it—Marcos corrected. —All of us. It was a team effort.
" Team effort that ended with you walking alone toward the army like a madman!" Garrett hugged him. "Never do that again!"
Daenerys came running.
She threw herself into Marcos's arms.
"You're alive. You're okay." She sobbed. "I thought... when you came out alone..."
"I'm fine." Marcos hugged her tightly. "And you were incredible. What you said to your brother... that took real courage."
"I had to do it. I had to free myself." Daenerys pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Is it over? Is it really over?"
"This battle, yes." Marcos looked toward where the army had disappeared. "But the war... the war has only just begun."
Because Marcos knew something that the others didn't.
Illyrio was not going to accept this defeat.
Pentos was not going to forget this humiliation.
And more importantly: he had shown his hand. His power. His capabilities.
Now everyone would know.
The Empire of Astoria was real.
The Maegi was real.
And the world was going to respond.
But for now, at this moment, they had won.
And that was enough.
That night, there was a celebration.
Not as big as before. They were exhausted. But there was joy.
Zero deaths on the Astoria side.
Only ten injured, all minors.
It was a perfect victory.
The prisoners were being processed. Most were mercenaries who had been hired without knowing what they were fighting against. Marcos offered them a choice: join Astoria or be released with provisions to return home.
Most chose to stay.
In his office, Marcos was with his council.
—We have a problem —Mira said.
- Which?
—We have just publicly humiliated Pentos . That has political consequences. Other Free Cities will react. Some with fear. Others with ambition.
"She's right," Garrett agreed. "We've shown we're a force to be reckoned with. That attracts attention. Not all of it good."
"But it also attracts potential allies, " Daenerys pointed out . "Peoples who want protection. Traders who want access to our resources. People looking for something better."
"All three of you are right." Marcos leaned back. "We've just entered the international arena. We're no longer an obscure settlement. We're a player."
—And now what? —Elia asked.
—Now we consolidate. We strengthen. We grow. —Marcos smiled—. And we prepare for what comes next.
—What comes next?
—Real expansion. Not just towns. Cities. Eventually... kingdoms. —Marcos looked at the map—. We built a real empire.
Everyone processed that.
He was ambitious. Crazy. Impossible.
But they had seen Marcos do the impossible.
Why stop now?
"There's one more thing," Garrett said. "The Dothraki."
—What 's wrong with them?
"They're two days away. Khal Drogo sent word. He says he's disappointed the fight ended before they arrived." Garrett smiled. "But he also says he's coming anyway. He wants to 'see the place that scared off an army with theater.'"
Marcos laughed.
"The Khal has a sense of humor." He stood up. "Good. When they arrive, we'll receive them properly. And perhaps we'll negotiate a formal alliance."
—Alliance with Dothraki? —Mira seemed skeptical.
—Why not? They are strength. We are strategy. Together... we could be unstoppable.
It was a terrifying thought.
And exciting.
Marcos looked out the window towards Astoria.
The lights shone. The people celebrated. The walls stood strong.
They had won their first war.
But Marcos knew it was only the beginning.
The Empire of Astoria was growing.
And the world was going to have to adapt.
Or fall.
[END OF CHAPTER 17]