Chapter 686 I am Aemon Targaryen!

A deep voice sounded, startling him.

As soon as Aemon lowered his head, the black-haired man stared at him with burning eyes.

Seeing him, a flash of irritation flashed in the eyes of the strong black-haired man, and he said in a deep voice: "If you disturb my sleep again, I'll poke your ass in the air."

Aemon looked at the other sleeping slaves, squatted down and said calmly: "No, you like women."

"There are no women here."

The black-haired burly man licked the corners of his mouth and showed a malicious smile.

"Let's talk?"

Eamonn didn't want to engage in useless nonsense and took the initiative to show sincerity.

Passed over... half a piece of leftover potato.

The strong black-haired man glanced at him and said disdainfully: "Are you sending away the homeless man?"

After saying that, he took the potato with teeth marks and chewed it.

It’s a conversation time to give the other person something to eat.

Eamonn understood the thoughts of this lower class society best and lowered his voice: "Do you want to be free?"

While in Tyrosh, he often wandered into the slums.

The opponent's temperament and martial arts skills were like that of a down-and-out hired knight.

The black-haired burly man seemed to have heard a joke and said contemptuously: "On you?"

A wise man doesn't need to waste his words when he speaks.

"I have a little bit of a skill that I can't stand on the stage."

Aemon raised his eyebrows, revealing the shackles on his ankles.

He dug into his trouser pocket and took out a twisted fork.

It's made of iron, conveniently hidden from the dining table in the lounge area.

Click!

The tip of the fork was inserted into the keyhole and turned, and the shackles opened with a sound.

Aemon looked at the other person, casually took off the shackles and shook them.

As if to say, see?

The strong black-haired man sat up straight and said strangely: "There are some tricks."

The Coliseum is a well-known slave organization, and the shackles and shackles worn by slaves are all carefully made.

Ordinary thieves and thieves simply cannot pick the lock.

Aemon put the shackles on again and said seriously: "If you help me get out, I can get you all out."

It’s no secret that there are dragons under the Great Pyramid.

As long as he is given a chance to contact the dragon, there is a half chance of getting out.

"Don't even think about it. Just being able to pick a lock is useless."

The strong black-haired man poured cold water on him, shook his head and said, "Without weapons and bare hands, you are no match for the guards. You will die in vain."

After the duel, the weapons will be taken back and no hope will be given to the slaves.

Aemon was not discouraged and was prepared: "I saw the warehouse where weapons are stored today, right behind the rest area."

Knowing where the weapons are hidden solves the problem.

Pry off the shackles on your feet, open the cell door and sneak out, and finally kill the warehouse guard to seize the weapon.

There are traces to follow, as long as you dare to give it a try.

The strong black-haired man had a very good mind. When he thought of the key, he still hesitated and said: "There are many guards in the large arena, so it will be difficult to send you out."

As he spoke, his eyes secretly glanced at Aemon.

It’s hard to give it away, it’s not that it’s impossible to give it away.

But why do you believe that the other party has the ability to turn around and rescue them?

"I am of true dragon bloodline."

Eamon's tone was firm and he said word for word: "You can ask Sally, she will testify for me."

Hearing this, the black-haired man's pupils suddenly shrank and he fell into deep thought.

…

In the blink of an eye, seven days later.

Meereen, the Coliseum.

Another duel match was over, and the victorious slaves walked back to the rest area.

Aimeng blended in and found an inconspicuous place to sit down.

"I found fifty people willing to help us."

The strong black-haired man strode over, his eyes darting around.

Aemon asked in a low voice: "Aren't there more?"

There are dozens of people, even the guards of the weapons warehouse are difficult to defeat.

The strong black-haired man snorted coldly: "There are so many people, can you trust me?"

Aemon stopped talking and nodded silently.

Being able to win over dozens of people in a large arena where relationships are complex is already a very difficult tactic.

Any more would be unsafe.

The strong black-haired man gnawed on the black bread, looking around and asked: "When will we do it?"

The thought of killing the guards and breaking out of Slaver's Bay to freedom.

Can't wait anymore.

Aemon thought for a moment and opened his mouth to speak: "Just half a month..."

Clang!

Before he finished speaking, a harsh gong sounded outside.

Knocking three times in a row was a signal to summon the slaves.

"Go and have a look first."

Aemon swallowed his words, stood up and walked outside the rest area.

The other slaves cursed, stuffed their mouths with food hungrily, and quickly followed him out.

The slave owners were at the top, and the guards under the slave owners were the cruelest executioners.

No one dared to disobey the guards' orders.

in the arena.

The spectators in the auditorium have left, and the arena is empty and quiet.

Aemon walked out of the iron gate, and the sun was so harsh that he couldn't keep his eyes open.

After getting familiar with the light, a familiar figure appeared in front of me.

"Sally!!"

There was a gallows covered with thorns standing on the arena where the blood had not yet been washed away.

The middle-aged woman who had taken care of him all the way was tied to the gallows, her bloated figure was strangled with hemp ropes and had bleeding marks, and her body was piled with dry firewood.

Aemon was stunned, not expecting to see each other again in this way.

Clang!

The gloomy guard banged the gong, pointed at the gallows and shouted: "This lowly slave girl is an evil blood wizard who secretly trades potions to the slaves in the Coliseum."

The whole place was in an uproar.

Aemon didn't know why, but the black-haired man in the suit looked shocked.

Slaves in the big arena are not taken seriously, unless they are the kind of strong slaves who are victorious in every battle.

Therefore, it was difficult for slaves to receive adequate treatment when injured.

This priestess traded wounds medicine to slave owners through the channels of slave owners in exchange for intelligence and secret operations.

The vicious guard yelled and scolded the slaves, then picked up a torch and threw it on the pile of firewood.

boom!

The firewood had been doused with kerosene in advance and exploded and burned instantly.

The middle-aged woman closed her eyes and muttered something with her thick lips trembling.

Like praying to the goat god of faith for help.

"No~~"

Aemon froze in place and subconsciously took a step forward.

Then he was grabbed tightly by the strong black-haired man and covered his mouth to prevent him from speaking.

The guards did not implicate the slaves because they were not sure who had connections with outsiders.

If the short-haired boy was exposed recklessly, his life would not have been lost.

"Woo~~"

Aemon struggled for a moment, staring straight at the fire.

The woman took care of him all the way and persuaded him to live and not give up his life early.

Although he looks ugly, he can always exchange his body for spoiled food and dirty water to ensure that the two of them will not starve.

The fire burned violently and billowed black smoke.

The middle-aged woman's eyelids were tightly closed, and her lips moved rapidly.

The flames spread to the clothes and quickly burned the skin.

Soon the prayers turned into screams.

"Don't look."

The strong black-haired man had a sullen face, blocking Aemon's sight.

Eamonn was confused, his body stiff and numb.

At the last moment of his vision, he saw the face of a middle-aged woman.

The other party opened his eyes, his green eyes full of fear of death.

Just in time, the two pairs of eyes met.

The middle-aged woman saw Aemon in the crowd through the flames.

She was stunned for a moment, wrinkles crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

It's no use.

The screams gradually turned into curses, cursing all slave owners and lackeys to end up with her.

Aemon was pressed into the arms of the strong black-haired man, listening to the shrill wails.

"Burn to ashes?"

Aemon closed his eyes and moved his lips slightly.

He understood that this was the dying wish of a middle-aged woman.

Soon the public trials to intimidate the slaves were over.

All the slaves returned to the underground cells and wasted the rations in the rest area.

On the way, the dark-haired strong man felt heavy and asked cautiously: "Is the time set in half a month?"

I accidentally heard from the guard that Meereen will hold a grand meeting in half a month.

The defense will be relaxed by then, which is a good opportunity.

"No!" Aemon lowered his head and gritted his teeth: "Just tonight."

…

Dusk.

The guards rotated meals and the underground cells were less guarded.

Click!

A cell door quietly opened and several figures slipped out.

Aemon dropped the shackles and opened the remaining cell doors one by one.

The eyes of the slaves in the cell were shining and they were shouting excitedly.

Whether it's rushing out or finding a guard to tell the truth, you can give it a try.

"Get out of here, if you want to be free, come with me!"

The strong black-haired man shouted and took the lead in rushing out of the dungeon.

He broke open the cell door in one fell swoop, and while the two guards looked on in shock, he threw off the shackles and strangled his neck.

There were two clicks and he fell to the ground.

"Rush!!"

The slaves were so excited when they saw the blood that they ran out in droves.

Some were running around, and some were following the strong black-haired man.

Eamonn had a clear goal and went straight to the warehouse behind the rest area.

"Who is it!?"

A team of guards sat in the warehouse and took up arms to intimidate.

The slaves were frightened for a moment, and then rushed forward crazily.

Seize the spear weapon and tear apart the guards who try to call for support.

Click!

Aemon looked calm and immediately pried open the iron lock of the warehouse.

The door opens, and a dazzling array of armor and weapons are at your fingertips.

Slaver's Bay was breathing heavily and was about to rush in and loot.

"Everyone, stop here. If you want to be free, just listen!"

The strong black-haired man took down the giant sword he was good at and banged it in front of the door, roaring loudly.

With one voice, all the slaves were shocked.

There were many slaves, even if some were scattered, there were thousands of them.

But only a few dozen of them were recruited in advance, and the rest were more or less lucky.

"What do you want to say? If you don't run away now, when will you wait?"

A young slave is filled with rage and desperate to escape.

With weapons, there is hope.

The other slaves nodded repeatedly and stared at the black-haired man with unkind eyes.

Anyone who stops them is the enemy.

"You bastards, listen to me!"

Aemon stood up at this time and said in a bad tone: "You want freedom, and I also want freedom, but can I get freedom with the few people here and the weapons in the warehouse?"

They couldn't even break out of the Coliseum, let alone the heavily defended city of Meereen.

"Then what should you do?"

The young slave's face was gloomy, and he looked down upon the half-grown man.

"Help me and I will set you free!"

Aemon opened his arms and spoke like his father: "I am of true dragon blood. If you help me escape, I will repay you."

The slaves don't know anything about true dragon blood, and they don't trust half-grown men.

Wow!

Aemon didn't need to say anything as he knocked over the brazier at the door of the warehouse.

Red-hot coals were spread all over the ground, and flames rose.

Aemon walked over to the flames and thrust his right hand into it.

He picked up a dagger from the guard's body and cut his wrist with a slash.

Blood dripped and fell onto the burning charcoal.

Boom!

Blood seemed to be the best fuel, and the flames soared ten feet high in an instant.

This scene stunned the slaves.

This was exactly what Aemon wanted. He endured the burning and severe pain in his wrist and gritted his teeth and said, "I am Aemon Targaryen, I am the lost true dragon, who is willing to fight for me and for freedom!?"

There was a complete silence, and everyone was staring blankly.

Aemon sweated profusely and let the flames burn.

He was not the Unburner, and the flames still hurt him.

But in order to win people's hearts, what was the pain.

Aemon took a deep breath and shouted again, "I am a true dragon, who is willing to fight for a true dragon!"

Plop! Plop!

A large group of slaves knelt down, and their faces flushed with excitement.

His mouth trembled, and the words were stuck in his throat.

At this moment, the eyes were only the half-grown boy in the flames.

"Fight for the real dragon!!"

The black-haired strong man suddenly shouted and swung his sword to cut off the shelves in the warehouse.

"For the real dragon!!"