Marcos discovered that training civilians for combat was significantly more difficult than building magic walls.
" NO, NO, NO!" he shouted as he watched a farmer trying to wield a sword like a shovel. "A sword isn't for digging! It's for stabbing! There's a difference!"
" But I'm a farmer!" protested the man, a fellow named Denner . "I've never fought in my life!"
" That's why we're training!" Marcos rubbed his face in frustration. " Okay , let's leave the swords for now. Let's start with spears. Spears are easier: you point them at the enemy and pray ."
Garrett, standing beside him, laughed silently.
—Boss, you're not a very good instructor.
"Because I'm a historian, not a soldier." Marcos pointed at Garrett. "You 're the military expert. Why don't you train them?"
—Because it's fun to see you suffer.
-I hate you.
"I hate you too, boss." Garrett grinned. "But fine, let me try."
Garrett took over the training and, indeed, he was much better than Marcos.
In thirty minutes I had all twenty civilians lined up, practicing basic thrusts with spears, moving in formation.
They weren't professional soldiers. Not even close. But at least they didn't look like ducks trying to dance anymore.
Marcos watched from the sidelines, taking mental notes.
"We need more time," he murmured. "Weeks. Months ideally."
"We don't have them," said a voice beside him.
Marcos turned around and saw Daenerys . She was wearing practical clothes (trousers and a tunic that Mira had gotten for her) instead of the dresses she wore in Pentos . Her hair was tied back in a simple braid.
She looked... different. More comfortable. As if she could finally breathe.
" Shouldn't you be resting?" Marcos asked.
"I've rested enough. I want to help." Daenerys looked at the trainees. "Can I learn too?"
Marcos blinked.
— Learn to fight?
—Yes. If we're going to be at war, I want to be able to defend myself. I don't want to be a burden.
—You're not a burden, Dany...
" Daenerys ," she corrected him gently. "And yes, I am. I came here, I attracted trouble, and now everyone is in danger because of me. The least I can do is learn not to be completely useless."
Marcos looked at her seriously.
He had determination in his eyes. Real determination, not the despair I had seen in Pentos .
" Okay ," he finally said. "But you're not going to train with the others. You're going to train with me."
- Because?
—Because they need to learn to fight as a group. You need to learn to survive on your own if something goes wrong. They're different skills.
Daenerys nodded.
— When do we start?
-Now.
It turns out that Daenerys was a surprisingly good student.
She had no physical strength (she was a thirteen-year-old girl who had spent her life running away), but she had something more valuable: she learned quickly and didn't complain.
Marcos started with the basics: how to stand, how to maintain balance, how to fall without getting hurt.
"Most fights aren't won with strength," he explained, demonstrating a defensive stance. "They're won with positioning. If someone bigger attacks you, you don't try to block. You dodge , you unbalance them , and you move ."
" Daenerys remarked .
—Exactly like dancing. Violent dancing. —Marcos smiled—. Do you know how to dance?
— Illyrio made me take lessons. He said that a princess should know how to dance for her husband.
The way he said it, with barely contained bitterness, made Marcos want to travel to Pentos and punch Illyrio .
"Well, now those lessons are going to be useful." He handed him a wooden stick the size of a short sword. "We're going to practice basic movements. Not for attacking, but for defending yourself."
They spent two hours practicing.
Daenerys tired quickly (she had no stamina), but she didn't give up. Every time she fell, she got up. Every time she failed at a move, she tried again.
When they finally stopped, she was sweating, panting, with clumps of hair stuck to her face.
But she was smiling.
—This is... more difficult than I thought.
"Everything is worth it, it's difficult." Marcos handed him a canteen of water. "You did well for your first day."
- Oh really?
—Seriously. Most people give up after fifteen minutes. You lasted two hours.
Daenerys drank water, processing the compliment.
No one had ever congratulated her for physical effort before. It was always for her appearance, her lineage, her "value" as a bargaining chip.
This was different.
"We'll continue tomorrow," Marcos said. "But now rest . I don't want you to overtrain and get injured ."
"Okay." Daenerys paused. "Mark, can I ask you something?"
-Clear.
— Do you know how to fight? I mean, really fight. Not just magic.
Marcos considered the question.
"Yes and no. I have combat knowledge thanks to... my heritage." He couldn't explain the Anos Voldigoad thing . "I know theory, techniques, strategy. But I've never been in a real battle. Not in this life."
—Are you scared?
"Fear of death." The brutal honesty made Daenerys laugh. "But fear is normal. What matters is what you do with that fear. If it paralyzes you, you die. If you use it as fuel, you survive."
Daenerys nodded slowly.
—I'm scared too.
"I know. And that's okay." Marcos put a hand on her shoulder. "But you're not alone in this. You have fifty people here who are going to fight for you. Including me."
" Why?" The question came out before I could stop her. "Why are you doing all this? You don't know me . You don't owe me anything."
Marcos looked her straight in the eyes.
"Because I saw a little girl being sold like cattle, and I decided I had the power to change that." She paused. "And also because... I like you. You're smart, brave, and you don't give up. Those are qualities I respect."
Daenerys felt tears threatening to spill over.
No one had ever seen her as a person before.
—Thank you —she whispered.
—You're welcome. Now go and get some rest. We'll continue training tomorrow.
As Daenerys walked away, Garrett approached Marcos.
—Boss, you're getting attached to her.
-I know.
—That could be a problem if things get ugly.
"I know that too," Marcos sighed. "But I can't help it. She's thirteen and she's already been through hell. She deserves better."
— You're too soft for someone who's about to go to war.
—Or maybe being soft is exactly what we need to avoid becoming the monsters we're facing.
Garrett had no answer for that.
Daenerys ' arrival :
The population of Astoria had grown to seventy people. Refugees continued to arrive, drawn by rumors of a safe haven with guaranteed work and a leader who used magic to build.
Marcos accepted them all, but with conditions: they had to work, they had to train (at least the basics), and they had to swear loyalty to Astoria, not to any external magister or king.
Most accepted without hesitation.
The defenses were almost complete. Marcos had added:
A third layer of inner wall protecting the central residential areaUnderground storage facilities for supplies (excavated using earth magic)An escape tunnel system that led out of the settlementWatchtowers with alarm bellsAnd most importantly: an arsenal.
The arsenal was a fortified building full of weapons that Marcos had created using Minecraft :
Iron swords (basic but functional)Iron spearsBows and arrows (unlimited quantity)Leather armor reinforced with metalIron shieldsAnd experimentally, some combat potions
Garrett inspected the arsenal with the expression of a child in a toy store.
—Chief, this is... this is an arsenal that could equip two hundred soldiers.
"That's the plan. Eventually." Marcos was checking an inventory. "For now, we have thirty trained people (ten original guards plus twenty civilians). It's not enough against a real army, but it's better than nothing."
—And the potions?
Marcos held up a bottle containing red liquid.
"Healing potions for the wounded." He held up another one with orange liquid. "Fire Resistance potions, in case they use fire arrows." Another one, blue. "Speed potions for messengers or quick retreats."
—Did you try them?
—Elia tried them. They work. Although the Speed ones make you dizzy if you run too fast.
" Even so, they're a massive advantage." Garrett carefully placed the potions down. "No army in the world has these."
"Exactly. That's why we keep them secret until absolutely necessary." Marcos locked the arsenal with a magic key. "They're our trump card."
That afternoon, Marcos called a council meeting (the official name they had just invented for the group of leaders).
Present were: Garrett (military), Elia (medicine), Lysor (agriculture), Mira (administration), and now also Daenerys (Mark insisted that she participate in important decisions).
" Okay , current situation." Marcos unfolded a map. "Five days ago, Illyrio received my response. We don't know what he's planning, but let's assume the worst. What's the worst thing he could send?"
"Mercenaries," Garrett said immediately. "Entire companies. The Second Sons, the Stormcrows, the Maidenmen. Any one of those companies has anywhere from fifty to two hundred trained men."
—Can we defend them?
—With the current defenses and potions , probably. It would be difficult, but feasible.
" And the Dothraki?" Daenerys asked in a low voice.
Everyone fell silent.
It was the question no one wanted to ask.
Finally, Garrett spoke:
"If Khal Drogo brings his entire Khalasar ... we're talking about forty thousand horsemen. Forty. Thousand." He let the number sink in. "There's no defense in the world that can stop that. They'd crush us."
"But he's not going to bring forty thousand," Marcos reasoned. "That would be logistically impossible. Moving that many people requires too many resources. He's going to bring a select group. One hundred? Two hundred?"
"That's still a massive problem," Mira pointed out. "The Dothraki are the best horsemen in the world. And we barely have thirty trained soldiers."
"That's why we're not going to fight in open terrain." Marcos pointed to the map of Astoria. "The Dothraki are lethal in open spaces. But in enclosed spaces, with fortified defenses, they lose their advantage. We're going to force them to fight on our terms."
" What if they simply besiege us?" he asked . Lysor —. They wait outside until we run out of food.
"We have supplies for six months," Mira replied. "And thanks to Marcos's skills, we can create more food if necessary."
- Water?
—The well is inside the wall. And Marcos created a reserve system. We're doing well in that respect.
Daenerys listened to everything in silence, processing it all.
Finally, he spoke:
—What if I talk to Drogo?
Everyone looked at her.
" What?" Marcos asked.
"If I'm the problem, maybe I can... I don't know, negotiate. Explain the situation." Daenerys looked uncertain. "I know it sounds stupid..."
"He's not stupid. He's brave." Marcos shook his head. "But it's not going to work. Drogo isn't known for his diplomacy. He's known for never having lost a battle and for being absolutely brutal to those who challenge him."
—So, what do we do?
"We're preparing for the worst and hoping for the best." Marcos pointed to different spots on the map. "We've set up rotating guards in all the towers. We train every day. We stockpile supplies. And I keep building defenses. If they come, we're going to make them bleed for every inch of ground."
" What if we lose?" Lysor 's question was the one everyone was thinking.
"If we lose, we activate the escape tunnels. We evacuate the civilians, especially children and women. The soldiers cover the retreat." Marcos looked at each of them. "But we're not going to lose. Not if I can prevent it."
There was silence.
Then Garrett spoke:
"Good. Then we'll continue preparing." He looked at Marcos. "But boss, you need to start training your combat magic too. If the time comes, you're going to have to fight for real."
Marcos nodded.
I had been avoiding thinking about that.
He possessed the power of Anos Voldigoad . He could technically wipe out entire armies with a snap of his fingers.
But he had never killed anyone.
The idea terrified him.
"I'll be ready," he said, with more confidence than he felt.
That night:
Marcos was in the training field, alone, practicing his magic.
He created orbs of magical energy, fired them at practice targets, and disintegrated them.
It was terrifying how easy it was.
She thought about killing someone and her magic responded, ready to make it happen.
—It's late to train.
Marcos turned around and saw Daenerys approaching.
—I couldn't sleep.
"Me neither." Daenerys sat down on a nearby bench. "I still think that if I weren't here, everyone would be safe."
"And if you weren't here, you'd be married to a man you didn't choose, living a life you don't want ." Marcos sat down next to her. "Sometimes the right decisions have difficult consequences."
—Don't you regret it?
"Not for a second." Marcos looked at her. "Do you regret it?"
Daenerys thought for a long moment.
"No. I'm scared, but I don't regret it. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have control over my destiny." She smiled sadly. "Even if that destiny probably includes dying in a siege."
"We're not going to die," Marcos said with conviction. "We're going to survive. We're going to win. And then we're going to build something so great that all the magistrates and khals in the world will tremble at the mere mention of our name."
— Do you really believe that?
—I have to believe it. Because if I don't believe it, how can I expect others to believe it?
Daenerys studied it.
This strange man had completely changed his life in a matter of days.
—Where do you really come from, Marcos?
"From very, very far away." Marcos smiled. "So far away you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
— Try me .
Marcos considered this for a moment.
Then he decided to be honest. At least partially.
—I come from a different world. Without magic, without dragons, without mad kings. A world where people travel in metal machines, where information flows instantly across impossible distances, where diseases that kill here are cured with simple pills.
Daenerys stared at him with enormous eyes.
—That sounds... impossible.
"I know. That's why I don't say it." Marcos shrugged. "But it's the truth. I died in that world and woke up here. With powers. With a second chance. And I decided to use it to build something worthwhile."
—Do you miss your world?
"Sometimes. I miss my family. My friends." Marcos looked up at the night sky. "But I can't go back. So I make the best of what I have here."
Daenerys nodded slowly.
In some twisted way, I understood.
She too had lost her world. Her family. Her home.
And now they were both building something new.
—Thank you —she said softly.
- Because?
—For being honest. For not treating me like a stupid girl. For... for everything.
Marcos smiled.
—You're welcome, Dany.
They sat in silence, gazing at the stars.
Somewhere, armies were preparing to march.
Somewhere, a bloodthirsty Khal was plotting revenge.
Somewhere, magisters were conspiring.
But at that moment, in Astoria, there was peace.
And for now, that was enough.
[END OF CHAPTER 10]