The Boys: Viltrumite Evolution Panel

Until the divine pressure dissipated, the lead bloodrider’s face turned deathly pale.

"Qotho... what do we do now? Are we really going to submit to that girl? She isn’t the Khaleesi of the Dothraki, it goes against our beliefs..."

"Fool!"

Qotho whipped his hand back, striking his subordinate across the face, his eyes gleaming with a mix of fanaticism and terror.

"We believe in strength, Khal? Can they withstand a single slap from a god?"

"Whoever the god tells us to submit to, we will lick their feet. This is the absolute rule of power. If you don’t accept it, then follow tradition: go cut out the god’s tongue and hang it on yourself as a trophy!"

The man immediately withered.

Are you kidding me!

The other side could use his head as a chamber pot, and those who swung their blades were all dead!

"I spoke too loudly!"

"If I hear your stupid remarks again, I’ll rip your tongue out first, you fool!"

Qotho said viciously.

Among the thousands of Dothraki riders, not a single one dared to say another word.

"Now, convey the god’s will. Go and invite all the Khals across the entire grasslands. If they don’t listen, the god will turn them into... uh, minced meat!"

Daenerys Targaryen forced herself to issue her first order.

She had expected these people to question her.

But the bloodrider named Qotho simply knelt, bowing his head to signal his obedience.

Bloodriders are the Khal’s personal guard; if the Khal dies, they will never live on.

But now the principle wasn’t in Khal Drogo’s hands, and their ways didn’t work in front of Lucas.

This group of thugs, who had been arrogant on the grasslands their entire lives, quickly transformed into the most fanatical religious zealots after witnessing absolute power.

In the following months, this surviving Dothraki legion directly became the god’s messengers.

Qotho led his men, frantically recruiting on the grasslands. Every time they arrived at a tribe, they didn’t discuss alliances or trade cattle and sheep; instead, they drew a huge ’V’ totem on the open ground.

"Kneel! Submit to the one true god and the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen! Otherwise, Khal Drogo’s fate will be your tomorrow!"

When they encountered a Khal who refused to submit, Qotho couldn’t even be bothered to talk. He would simply send people with a raven, and then that group of people would just shatter.

Without warning!

Not even a shadow was seen.

In reality, Lucas was constantly monitoring them with Super Vision and Super Hearing, and whenever something went wrong, he would go over to fix it.

You have to say!

This style of Nolan’s is actually quite satisfying!

Sometimes he didn’t just kill people; instead, from ten thousand meters in the air, he would drop a boulder weighing tens of tons, instantly leveling the opposing main tent, causing tens of thousands of grassland barbarians to kneel and kowtow on the spot.

In just half a year, dozens of horse-riding tribes on the Dothraki Sea were forcibly twisted into a single rope.

But these people couldn’t yet be counted as an elite unit.

What he needed was a true iron legion that could sweep across the world, with order in every movement.

Thus, the spearhead of the great army pointed toward Slaver’s Bay.

By this time, Daenerys Targaryen was no longer that destitute princess. Under Lucas’s instruction, she became the spokesperson representing the true god in conducting transactions.

...

Astapor, on the red brick plaza.

The scorching air was filled with the scent of sea salt. Eight thousand Unsullied were arranged in an airtight phalanx, the sunlight shining on the spikes of their bronze helmets, refracting a light of deathly silence.

This was the renowned Unsullied.

From the moment they joined the legion, their lower bodies were castrated. They only obeyed orders in their actions, without any questioning. Even if the Good Master ordered them to their deaths, they wouldn’t even frown.

The Good Master Kraznys was high above, holding a whip made of pure gold in his hand.

This guy thought the traders before him were just some vulgar grassland barbarians who couldn’t understand Valyrian at all.

"Tell this destitute Ghiscari bitch that if she wants these eight thousand Unsullied, she must trade her tens of thousands of Dothraki savages for them."

"However, looking at her figure, if she is willing to sleep with this Good Master for a few nights, I might consider throwing in a few crippled little wolf pups."

"Heh! There are plenty of white-haired, purple-eyed bastards in the city, but a beauty as striking as this bitch is rare!"

Kraznys laughed unscrupulously, and the slave masters around him echoed the Good Master, letting out bursts of ear-piercing laughter.

Who would care about a few tens of thousands of savages!

Daenerys Targaryen’s face was pale, her fingertips digging deeply into her palms, her purple eyes filled with rage.

"I’ve loaded the Valyrian language pack, you fool!"

Lucas lifted his cloak and stepped out of the shadows, walking up the red brick platform step by step. With his black hair and brown eyes, he looked different from everyone else, appearing exceptionally noble.

"What are you? How dare you look directly at the Great Good Master!" Kraznys was furious.

The Unsullied beside him immediately drew their curved blades and surrounded Lucas.

"You don’t know when you’re going to die!"

Lucas couldn’t even be bothered to lift a hand; he just tapped his toe slightly on the red brick ground.

Boom!!!

Even with his terrifying strength restrained to the extreme, it was not something mortal architecture could withstand. In an instant, the entire platform, which had been passed down for thousands of years, felt as if it had suffered a magnitude-10 earthquake; spiderweb-like cracks spread wildly, and then it shattered with a roar!

The dozen or so mercenaries didn’t even have time to scream before they were torn into a mist of blood by the violent force.

Kraznys screamed as he fell from the dust-filled air. Before he could even crawl up, Lucas had already stepped down onto his head.

Splat!

Kraznys’s head exploded on the spot, dying even more miserably than Prince Oberyn.

"Unsullied! Unsullied! Kill him! Tear this monster into pieces!" the other Good Masters screamed hysterically.

They tried to grab the golden whip.

"Are you worthy of commanding the Unsullied? Give it here!"

Lucas’s hand moved like lightning, snatching the whip away. Because he was too fast, he accidentally ripped the man’s arm off.

"Tsk! You’re not very durable, are you!"

Lucas casually refined the person into ash.

"These wooden men without balls can’t save you trash! Just obediently bend over!"

A scarlet light suddenly erupted from Lucas’s eyes.

Omega Beams surged out, tracing two eerie, physics-defying zigzags in the void, sweeping wildly through the dense crowd of slave masters!

Sizzle, sizzle!!!

There was no stopping them!

Those fat, gluttonous Good Masters were melted directly into charred cinders, and their pure gold ornaments turned into molten gold, flowing between the cracks of the bricks; even their screams were reduced to nothingness.

In just three seconds, the Good Master class that had ruled Astapor for who knows how many years was completely wiped out by Lucas with a single blast of Heat Vision!

The entire square was deathly silent!

Eight thousand Unsullied still held their spears, but in their numb eyes, an instinctive shock erupted at this moment.

Are you kidding me!

Is this a human?

They had seen the cruelest punishments, but they had never seen such great power, bordering on godliness!

Lucas casually tossed the pure gold whip to Daenerys Targaryen.

He also reached out to close her jaw for her.

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