Chapter 109: Encirclement

In no time at all, a short period had passed.

In the distance.

On the horizon of the ancient Valyrian road, a black line appeared in people's sight, followed by the thunderous rumble of galloping horses.

Boom, boom, boom—

The hooves kicked up the dirt, dust scattered in the air, forming a long smoke dragon, as countless birds were startled into flight.

A massive group of Dothraki appeared suddenly within the range of the ruined city-state of Ghoyan Drohe.

However, this group of Dothraki seemed to be just the vanguard of the Khalasar, and their numbers were not that great.

They halted their horses several kilometers outside Ghoyan Drohe, stopping their advance.

The Dothraki didn't seem eager to attack Aegon's army; they just gathered together in a disorganized manner at a distance, like a swarm of flies, staring in their direction, as if they were inspecting prey.

At the same time, they let out sharp, incomprehensible howls.

Viserys couldn't understand the Dothraki language and had no idea what they were saying, but it was clear that it wasn't anything pleasant.

"They arrived too quickly."

The distant Dothraki seemed to be waiting for the rest of their tribe to catch up.

Aegon's army, after getting over the initial panic, quickly began to deploy and actively organize their defense.

Neither Viserys nor Oberyn had expected this Dothraki Khalasar to catch up so fast.

It could only be said that they were truly a people of the horse.

It seemed that while the scout was returning, the Khalasar had already crossed the river and was heading in their direction, then joined forces with the scout and sped up their approach.

Viserys, with the help of his squire, fastened the last piece of his vambrace.

Click—

The harsh sound of metal scraping, the vambrace tightly buckled.

Next, the young king, seated on his horse, flexed his wrists and then fastened the polished silver helmet on his head, pulling down the faceguard to cover his face.

"Spear."

The squires standing below the horse hurriedly raised the young king's preferred weapon and handed it over.

"Your Grace."

Viserys took the spear, feeling its slightly heavy weight, and gripped it tightly with one hand.

The sharp, triangular blade glinted with a chilling light, and then pointed downward towards the ground.

Although of noble birth, Viserys had never feared leading his troops into battle personally, even daring to put himself in the front lines to boost morale.

The reason was that he had to personally reap enough lives to satiate the black mist within him. Another reason was that his foundation was so weak; Viserys had to give his all for many things and could not afford a single failure.

"Quick, quick, quick!"

The soldiers surrounding Viserys were hastily forming their ranks under the command of their officers.

Fortunately, Viserys had maintained a formation while marching, so they weren't caught off guard. They quickly utilized the terrain of the ruined city to organize a defensive formation and set up makeshift fortifications.

After donning his armor, Viserys spurred his horse and rode to a higher vantage point within the ruined city.

Clip-clop, clip-clop…

He reined in his horse and gazed out at the throng of Dothraki approaching in the distance. From his elevated position, Viserys could clearly see more Dothraki riders streaming in from afar.

"Your Grace."

Suddenly encountering a Dothraki tribe, Ser Evin, a newly appointed nobleman from the Lysene under the rule of House Targaryen, had also put on his armor. He held his battle-axe with one hand and spoke.

"Why aren't the Dothraki moving? Do they want to negotiate with us?"

Although Ser Evin was good at flattery, Viserys had promoted him to knighthood because his former guard, Bessie, had been left behind in Andalos, and he needed someone who knew the lay of the land.

The Lysene warrior might have had a weak resolve and easily surrendered, but he was truly brave in battle. With a strong, tower-like physique, he wielded a heavy battle-axe and always led the charge when driven to act as a suicide squad. This was what had caught Viserys's attention.

"Perhaps," Viserys replied, sitting atop his horse. The cool afternoon breeze slipped through the gaps in his armor, chilling him slightly.

He clenched his fingers and the sunlight cast his shadow on the ruins below. His silver armor and white steed stood tall on the high ground.

"But the chances of that are slim…"

Viserys didn't have a better answer to his attendant's question because he, too, was uncertain of the Dothraki's intentions.

At the moment, they hadn't surrounded the Ghoyan Drohe, but merely blocked one end of it. The rear gate was left wide open.

The Dothraki had neither attacked nor sent emissaries to discuss their intentions, and reinforcements continued to arrive—

What did they want to do?

"Retreat?"

The thought suddenly flashed across Viserys's mind as he sat atop his horse, but he quickly dismissed it.

The current position of their over seven-thousand-strong army within the ruined city of Ghoyan Drohe offered some geographical advantage, allowing them to defend from within the walls.

If Viserys were to be frightened by the Dothraki and retreat with his army, it could lead to disastrous consequences, such as being chased down and possibly annihilated.

The Dothraki were a horse-riding people, and every man, woman, and child was an exceptional cavalry rider. Apart from the famous Battle of Qohor four hundred years ago, where three thousand Unsullied held off the fifty-thousand-strong Dothraki horde led by Temmo, there were few instances where an army had defeated the Dothraki in open battle.

The enemy could come and go like the wind, retreating when faced with a formidable opponent. Conventional armies of infantry and cavalry had no means of pursuing the elusive Dothraki tribes, unable to catch up or outrun them.

Thus, Viserys quickly discarded the idea of retreating.

However, perhaps they had already gathered enough strength or realized that the army wouldn't be frightened into abandoning the city, the ever-growing horde of Dothraki made the decision for Viserys.

In the distance, a powerful long-haired black horse carried a Dothraki leader who appeared to be of great importance. Viserys couldn't make out the details from this far away, but the rider seemed oddly familiar.

"Who is he…?" Viserys muttered to himself, squinting into the distance.