Chapter 123: The Greatest Horse Warrior
"Oberyn, I leave that area to you."
Viserys surveyed the entire battlefield, breathing in the tense air, striving to maintain a calm demeanor.
However, achieving this was easier said than done.
No one could remain completely calm in the chaos of the battlefield, as their emotions would inevitably be influenced by the turmoil of the fight.
Oberyn knew that they had reached a critical point in this war.
The Andalosian army now had nearly half the number of Loina people among them. If they only had the four thousand Andal soldiers Viserys initially led, perhaps they wouldn't be in such a passive situation.
Of course, this wasn't to say that the Loina people were any less brave than the Andals. Both peoples had once risen to establish famous nations in history.
The issue was that the Loina people were new to the Andalosian system, and many of them were new recruits. Their presence spread fear that could even affect Viserys' most elite Andal soldiers.
The fact that such an army could withstand the first wave of attack was already impressive.
"Understood."
Oberyn nodded, leading a group of reserve forces to secure another entrance to the ruined city.
Neither Viserys nor Oberyn were surprised by the Dothraki's adaptability.
Oberyn had warned Viserys the night before to be cautious of the Dothraki's tactical changes, as they were not just mindless brutes.
However, war was full of changes, and the dynamic between attack and defense was always present. One side would always have a stronger offense.
As it stood, the Andalosian army could not afford to leave their advantageous position and fight in the open field. Doing so might expose them to attacks from both sides, and the morale would be greatly affected. Only the most experienced soldiers could hold their ground in such a situation, and even they might be completely wiped out here.
That's why Oberyn approved of Viserys' decision to behead the Bloodrider Qosso and send the head back to enrage Khal Drogo.
Otherwise, if the Dothraki simply besieged the city without attacking, the prolonged standoff would be detrimental to the Andalosian army. Limited supplies and growing fear would eventually overwhelm them.
Now that Qosso's head had been sent back and many Dothraki had seen and spread the news, Drogo had no choice but to seek vengeance for his 'blood of my blood.' If he failed to do so, he would lose the support of his Khalasar.
A Khal who lacked the courage to avenge his sworn brother had no right to lead a Khalasar. With his prestige in jeopardy, Drogo would only face more trouble.
Viserys' actions had effectively left Drogo with no way out.
This was the part that puzzled Oberyn the most.
As a result, he repeatedly asked Viserys if there was any deep-seated enmity between him and Khal Drogo.
How big of a grudge could it be?
He felt that capturing three thousand slaves for ten thousand gold dragons wasn't a big deal. The Andalosians could afford ten thousand gold dragons, and three thousand slaves were nothing to them. All free city-states conducted such transactions.
The current situation seemed to be that Drogo wouldn't let Viserys go, but Viserys also appeared to have no intention of letting Drogo off the hook.
Both were determined to bring down the other. Drogo was driven by Viserys' unjust act of killing the messenger, and he might have also felt that he had crossed paths with a madman.
Wasn't it perfectly normal for him to send someone over to ask for some money?
That's how all the Dothraki operated.
Yet Viserys, the madman, had killed Drogo's Bloodrider without any hesitation, forcing Drogo into a difficult situation where he had no choice but to fight to the death.
Both were determined to bring down the other. Drogo was driven by Viserys' unjust act of killing the messenger, and he might have also felt that he had crossed paths with a madman.
As the battle continued to unfold, the tension between the two sides only grew stronger, and the ultimate outcome remained uncertain.
...
And on the chaotic battlefield.
Khal Drogo rode his majestic black warhorse, its long hair hanging down, resembling a lion on the plains. The horse was noticeably taller than the others around it.
Khal Drogo led his remaining two bloodriders, Haggo and Cohollo, silently appearing at the forefront of the battlefield.
The trio sat atop their horses, Drogo's long braid hanging down behind him, accompanied by the sound of bells as he urged his horse forward. A heavy bronze belt encircled his abdomen, the only armor on his body, revealing his strong chest muscles.
Khal Drogo led the two bloodriders to the front of the battlefield and then pulled on his horse's reins, dismounting.
Ahead of them, the ground was littered with corpses of horses and soldiers from both sides, as well as broken caltrops, making it difficult to advance further on horseback.
At this moment, on the chaotic battlefield, several Andal soldiers who seemed to have appeared from nowhere stood before Drogo, brandishing their long swords and showing clear fear in their faces.
They didn't recognize the man before them, but the powerful figure and deep, dark eyes of this Dothraki warrior made them feel an uncontrollable terror.
"This guy…"
The Andal soldiers exchanged glances, their throats constricting and feet retreating, before finally gathering their courage and shouting.
"Kill!"
They charged forward, raising their swords, intending to kill Drogo right there.
Standing behind Drogo, the two silent bloodriders, Haggo and the older, broken-toothed Cohollo, drew their arakhs, ready to protect him.
However, Drogo stopped them.
"Os —"
Drogo's deep voice commanded the two to step back in the Dothraki language. He intended to face these six enemies alone.
His gaze was deep and calm as he looked at the six Andal soldiers before him. He then pulled his arakh from his waist, weighing it slightly in his hand.
The first Andal soldier to charge swung his long sword downward, attempting to cleave Drogo diagonally from shoulder to hip.
The bells in Drogo's braid jingled as he easily sidestepped the attack.
"Uh…"
Drogo's long beard trembled, his dark eyes reflecting the young Andal soldier's face.
Unlike Viserys' violet eyes, Drogo's reactions and movements seemed to flow seamlessly, like a cloud drifting across the sky. This was the experience accumulated from countless battles, and Drogo's inherent terrifying talent.
His father, Bharbo, had once praised his son as "the greatest horse warrior in the world."
This was not only an expression of hope but also a true statement.
"Kill!"
Subsequently, the remaining Andal soldiers, encouraged by what they had just witnessed, charged forward together to attack Drogo.
...
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder