Yet the Unsullied did not move. Their gazes shifted between the scepter and the enraged Grazdan. There seemed to be a flicker of conflict in their numb eyes, but their long-standing fear of the Harpy Scepter kept them rooted in place.
Viserys no longer looked at the Good Masters. He turned toward the Unsullied formation, his gaze sharp, his voice laced with beguiling magic.
"Unsullied, look at this scepter. Look at your masters. Those so-called 'Good Masters' ordered you to kill infants, torture your own people, and uphold their rule while they sat atop their pyramids, sucking your blood. They told you that you had no names, no past, no selves. That you were nothing but tools."
"But today, I will tell you this." Viserys's voice suddenly rose.
"From this moment on, this scepter will no longer represent oppression, but liberation. I am Viserys Targaryen, and the blood of the Dragonlords of Valyria flows through my veins. Perhaps your ancestors once served the Dragonlords as well. Today, I stand here to return what was stolen from you: dignity and freedom. You will have the right to choose to live as human beings."
Grazdan panicked completely and shrieked at the sellswords, "What are you waiting for? Kill them! Sellswords, attack!"
The sellsword captain, who had been mingling with the crowd, knew he could wait no longer. He drew his blade and roared, "Move! Take down that silver-haired brat!"
Hundreds of sellswords sprang into action from every direction, lunging toward Viserys.
Arthur and Alliser immediately drew their swords, and a dozen or so warriors formed a defensive line.
Just then, a deafening dragon roar rang out from the sky. Filled with primal power and majesty, it instantly drowned out every sound in the square.
Everyone, including the charging sellswords, involuntarily looked up.