Here's @riojiyo131, your trusted writer.
You can now get early access to Chapter 100 of Re: Naruto Uzumaki on my Patreon. You can also read up to Chapter 33 of Naruto: Satoru Senju.
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The moment Daenerys made her decision, they were both expelled from that dark space where they had been.
In the blink of an eye, they were sent back to reality.
Daenerys looked around, disoriented, and clung tightly to Satoru's arm.
"Don't worry," said Satoru calmly. "As long as I'm with you, nothing in this world can hurt you."
Daenerys' body had tensed the moment they arrived, and Satoru had noticed it.
She looked at him intently. For a few seconds, silence settled between them. Then, she nodded, choosing to believe in him.
Only then did Satoru frown, disgusted by the smell.
The air inside the hut was thick, saturated with the scent of tanned leather, stale sweat, and ash. Sunlight barely filtered through the cracks between the heavy horsehides that made up the walls. Beneath their feet, the packed earth was covered with coarse, worn rugs, stained by use and time.
In the center, an iron brazier smoldered, its embers still alive. Knives, carved bones, and leather pouches hung from hooks or lay scattered in apparent chaos.
From outside, the sounds of horses, laughter, and shouting filtered in.
It was then that Khal Drogo entered.
He stopped cold at the sight of Satoru, standing too close to his wife, who was clinging to his arm. He remained still, assessing him with a fierce gaze.
"I'm so sorry I interrupted your attempt at rape..."
Satoru said sarcastically, with a mocking smile.
And even though Drogo didn't understand a single word he said, it was all that was needed.
Without hesitation, Drogo grabbed a spear from the ground, raised it with precision, and threw it without taking his eyes off him.
Daenerys held her breath, horrified.
But her expression changed the very next instant.
Satoru caught the spear mid-air, with one hand, mere inches from his face.
His smile didn't fade. On the contrary, it grew even more insolent, as if that act had been nothing more than a game.
"I think you dropped this," said Satoru mockingly, raising the spear.
Drogo didn't even see the moment Satoru threw it back.
It happened in a fraction of a second.
The spear tore through the air with such brutal speed that the Khal had no time to react. The next thing he knew was the impact: the spear pierced through him cleanly, embedding itself in his chest.
His body was flung backward and fell outside the hut, among his men, who had been celebrating the birth of their new Khaleesi.
Their excitement vanished in an instant.
No one had imagined that their great leader, the indomitable Khal Drogo, would fall before them with a spear through his chest.
Drogo coughed blood, slowly drowning in it. His glassy eyes searched the sky as life slipped away from him.
"R... rakh haj..." (Strong man) he murmured with his final breath.
Silence took hold of the place.
The Dothraki's eyes turned toward the entrance of the hut, waiting to see who had defeated the invincible Khal Drogo.
And then Satoru appeared.
He stepped out slowly, calmly, with Daenerys by his side. She looked around nervously, as if expecting something to go wrong at any moment.
She was not yet the powerful, feared queen who would later lay waste to King's Landing with fire and blood.
At that moment, she was still a young girl, shaped by submission, injustice, and fear. But deep in her chest, a fire burned: her empathy for the weak, her belief in justice, her desire to never again be a victim.
And while the silence hung over the camp like lead, Satoru walked with her, determined to do whatever was necessary to make her feel safe by his side.
"Vod chafaan, Khal Drogo" (Rest in peace, Khal Drogo) said Satoru without taking his eyes off the surrounding Dothraki.
"Ifak" (Foreigner) growled one of Drogo's Bloodriders, stepping forward with a falcata in hand.
Satoru was already expecting him.
The ancient traditions of the Dothraki dictate that when a Khal dies, his Bloodriders must follow him into death.
In the case of the Khal's death in battle, as in this case, the Bloodriders may live long enough to avenge him.
"Qoy Qoyi" (Blood of my Blood) said one of them, referring to Drogo, promising him vengeance.
Satoru recognized him as Cohollo, the eldest of Drogo's three Bloodriders. A bald, chubby man with a hooked nose and a smile full of broken teeth.
Beside him stood Qotho and Haggo, Drogo's other two Bloodriders.
"M'athchomaroon" (Greetings) Satoru greeted them in their tongue, with a relaxed smile that contrasted with the tension of the moment.
As if he weren't about to kill them.
But then his expression changed, turning cold and lethal.
"Fonas chek." (And goodbye)
At that moment, the space around Cohollo, Qotho, and Haggo seemed to collapse in on itself.
To the naked eye, their bodies were crushed by an invisible force, reduced to shapeless masses of flesh and blood that slammed against the ground.
The Dothraki watched, paralyzed. Some stepped back, others fell to their knees. Whispers filled with terror began to spread.
Satoru turned to Daenerys, unshaken.
"Daenerys… do you remember where you left the dragon eggs that Magister Illyrio Mopatis gave you as a wedding gift?"
"They shouldn't be far, husband. With the other gifts I received," she replied softly.
Daenerys was still in shock. Seeing how Satoru ended Drogo and his Bloodriders without batting an eye had been overwhelming.
But she didn't just feel surprise. She also felt grateful. And, for the first time in a long while, safe.
She smiled with a touch of innocence as she walked beside Satoru. As they passed, the Dothraki silently stepped aside, clearing the way.
None dared attack, not after witnessing such a display of power.
Because even if the Dothraki were barbarians, a nomadic tribe of warriors, they were still human.
And all humans, no matter how much they deny it, fear death.
"That's how they should look at you wherever you go, Dany. In the future, you must show everyone who you really are."
Daenerys looked at him intently, both confused and curious.
"Who am I…?" she asked herself in a whisper, not fully understanding what he meant.
Satoru smiled, as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Daenerys of House Targaryen. Daughter of King Aerys II. The one true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."
She looked at him in silence for a moment... and then she smiled. A big, bright, almost childlike smile.
"Then... will you help me take back the Iron Throne?" she asked, with a mix of hope and excitement in her voice.
With him by her side, everything seemed possible. Even what once felt like a dream.
"Silly..." he murmured, tenderly. "To me, you're already sitting on it."
There was no force in this world —no army, no king, not even the Night King— that could stop him if he set his mind to something.
Satoru stopped among the Dothraki, and with a gentle gesture, cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs caressed her skin as he looked at her.
"I'll tell you what we'll do, my queen," he whispered, with a barely visible smile. "First, we bring the dragons back. Then, we'll visit Astapor. And after that... we'll go to King's Landing together. I promise you. As your husband, and as the man who will love you until death: you will take back what has always belonged to you."
Daenerys didn't pull away. On the contrary, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his hand, seeking more of his warmth.
"I'll never be able to thank you enough for everything you do for me..." she murmured softly, placing her hands over his.
"Having you with me is more than enough, Dany," he replied, gently stroking her face.
It was a quiet, warm, perfect moment...
But like all perfect moments in this world, it was interrupted.
Shouts, complaints, heavy footsteps. A familiar voice, full of fury and resentment, broke the calm.
Daenerys turned slowly, already knowing who it was.
Satoru saw him too, and the sweetness in his eyes vanished immediately, replaced by fury.
"Viserys..." Daenerys murmured, seeing her older brother approaching in a rage.