Chapter 128: Breaking the Army

As the red comet streaked across the sky, it elicited various reactions across the entire continent of Westeros.

The Ironborn of the Iron Islands believed it triggered the "Wrath of the Drowned God," while the maesters of Oldtown and the Septons of the Faith of the Seven declared it a normal astronomical phenomenon, calling it the "Sword of the Seven Gods Slaying the Seasons."

In the Riverlands, the soldiers gazed at the sky and referred to the red comet as the Red Messenger, foreshadowing that victorious news would soon be abundant.

At the Red Keep in King's Landing, the people called it King Robert's Comet. They flattered the recently victorious King Robert, who indulged in feasts and drank until he was unconscious. Ser Jaime Lannister eventually had to carry the king back to his bedchamber, an act that left Jaime with a sore back for days.

However, some citizens of King's Landing also called the comet the Red Messenger, and others referred to it as the Dragon's Tail Star.

The last embers of House Targaryen were slowly gaining power across the Narrow Sea in Essos. They had acquired several cities and territories that rivaled the size of a kingdom, and this news gradually made its way to King's Landing with the help of merchant caravans.

Although the Red Keep issued orders to strictly suppress this information and capture those spreading such rumors, the gold cloaks of King's Landing were struggling to contain the gossip in a city with a population of over half a million. They could hardly clean up the daily waste produced by the people, let alone control the mouths of so many.

Some preferred the Baratheons, others the Targaryens, and thus the meaning of the Dragon's Tail Star became ambiguous.

In a blacksmith's shop in King's Landing, a black-haired boy believed the comet resembled a red-hot sword drawn from a forge.

This, however, was of little consequence.

...

On the battlefield in Ghaston Grey, the war was reaching its final stages.

"In the name of the Seven Gods and the Mother Rhoyne—"

Viserys, clad in resplendent silver armor, rode a white horse with a flowing mane. He held a lance in one hand and led more than a hundred heavy cavalrymen.

"Defeat all those who would plunder our wealth, enslave our wives and children, and sell us into bondage!"

The young king led his cavalry around the still-burning fires and charged into the heart of the battlefield.

With a thunderous rumble—

The morale of the Dothraki had reached its lowest point. They were ill-suited for storming towns and had been ambushed after breaching the city walls.

The fire had separated their forces, with most of the horde either consumed by the flames or trapped within the city, like turtles caught in a pot. The remaining Dothraki who had not entered the city had lost the will to fight.

Their ranks included elderly, women, and even children who usually followed the army to collect weapons and arrowheads from corpses. They never expected to find themselves on the front lines.

At this moment, a faint tremor shook the ground, and a muffled roar echoed through the air, striking terror into the hearts of the disoriented Dothraki.

Without their Khal, the Dothraki were like a pack of wolves without a leader, unsure of their next move.

The confused Dothraki language filled the air as they argued and offered their own suggestions, but no one held the authority to command them all.

Their Khal was trapped in the inferno or perhaps already dead, and they seemed to sense danger looming.

.

Thud...

The hooves of the horses stomped uneasily on the ground, and the Dothraki riders exchanged nervous glances, gripping their reins tightly. They, as well as their steeds, could sense the unsettling atmosphere in the air.

But the next scene provided them with an answer.

Upon a hill not far from Ghis Dothrak, a group of knights clad in armor cleared the slopes, their shimmering reflections gleaming in the sunlight.

The heavily armed Andal horsemen charged, their hefty hooves pounding the ground, kicking up dust like a long, winding smoke dragon.

At the forefront was a knight in silver armor, astride a beautiful white steed, one hand holding the reins while the other gripped a long spear. He was the first to plunge into the crowd of Dothraki.

Two Dothraki warriors, spotting the knight, roared in anger, mustering their courage and spurring their horses forward with arakhs in hand, attempting to stop the intruder.

"Die."

The knight's pale violet eyes merely narrowed, and his grip tightened around the spear.

With a flick of his wrist, the sharp tip of the spear thrust forth, piercing the neck of one Dothraki warrior.

Splurt—

A burst of the enemy's blood sprayed.

Thunderous...

The panicked hooves of the fleeing horses echoed in the distance.

The fallen warrior's body lay lifeless on the ground, head almost completely severed from the impact.

The other Dothraki warrior attacking Viserys had his curved blade pressed against the knight's helmet.

Clang—

It grazed the white plume atop his helmet before Viserys deftly tilted his head, narrowly avoiding the strike.

Curses in the Dothraki language followed, as the attacker had thought the blow would decapitate the armored foe, yet it was dodged.

But before the curse could fully leave his lips, he felt a heavy blow to his chest.

Thud—

Viserys impaled one enemy and dodged the blade, the spear scraping against his steel gauntlet with a screeching sound. The heavy spear slammed into the Dothraki's chest.

Thump...

The Dothraki warrior tumbled off his horse, landing on the ground with his fate uncertain.

However, before he could rise again, he was trampled to a pulp by the horsemen following Viserys.

The heavily armed knights made quick work of the bewildered and terrified light cavalry.

Unstoppable.

Like molten lava from a volcanic eruption, they melted through the Dothraki ranks within moments.

Finally, the Dothraki began to scatter, no longer adhering to their Khalasars or Khalasar formations. All semblance of order had been lost amidst the chaos that followed the fall of the Khal.

The Dothraki translator Viserys had spared earlier finally proved his worth.

The knight, Evan, grabbed the translator, his voice booming like thunder.

"Tell them!"

"Hand over Drogo! Or none shall be spared!"

...