Chapter 129: The Curtain Falls

Viserys personally led the cavalry, crushing the last bit of resistance in the hearts of the Dothraki.

On the other side, Oberyn's forces managed to hold off the Dothraki who, upon seeing the turn of events, decisively withdrew from the battle. However, they did not join forces with their kin, but retreated in a different direction.

The Dothraki Khalasar was made up of various Khalasars. When a Khal died, all the Khalasars were essentially liberated, turning into flexible smaller groups.

If a new Khal could be chosen within a short period of time, the situation would be manageable. If not, these Khalasars would break away from the Khalasar and form new Khalasars, or join other Khals' tribes.

At this point, although no clear news had been received, the leader of this Khalasars believed that Khal Drogo had likely perished in the great fire, reduced to ashes.

Khal Drogo was dead.

Otherwise, the main forces would not be in such chaos.

"These Dothraki are finished," Oberyn thought.

In the distance, Oberyn watched the Dothraki who had just been battling them retreat without giving chase.

Although they had won this battle, Oberyn did not become arrogant. He knew that the ordinary Andalosi cavalry would never be able to defeat the Dothraki on horseback. They were outnumbered, had fewer horses, and were less skilled in horsemanship.

This victory was due to the Dothraki underestimating Viserys, who had considered them mortal enemies from the start and had carefully set a trap.

The sacrificed soldiers, the pitfalls, and the caltrops were all part of a scheme to lure the Dothraki into a cage.

"Once the beast is in the cage, you can wield a big stick to teach it a lesson," Oberyn thought.

The narrow terrain was not suitable for the Dothraki to unleash their full potential. If the battle had taken place in the open wilderness, even a great fire would not have caused such significant damage.

In the crowded urban environment, the destructive power of a fire increased tenfold or even more.

"What a brilliant strategy," Oberyn sighed. He removed his helmet, revealing sweat-soaked hair plastered to his face and scalp. The well-designed armor was almost airtight, sweltering in the summer and freezing in the winter.

The Prince of Dorne wiped the sweat from his brow, threw his helmet to the ground, and dismounted from his warhorse.

...

In the distance, Viserys and the heavy cavalry shattered the Dothraki's will to resist. Their heavy iron hooves tore through the disorganized formation like a ferocious tiger entering a flock of sheep, bringing an unstoppable force.

The remaining elderly, weak, and sick Dothraki were powerless to stop the heavy cavalry, scattering in all directions. Among them were warriors who drew their arakhs and charged to stop the ironclad knights.

However, their unarmored horses were like sandbags, sent flying upon impact.

Boom.

The rider, too, spat blood and fell heavily to the ground.

Meanwhile, those who managed to bypass the front of the heavy cavalry charge and attempted to cut down the Andalosi knights discovered they could not break their defenses.

Clang, clang, clang...

The crude Dothraki arakhs left only shallow scratches on the finely crafted, heavy armor. The attackers' wrists ached from the impact.

In terror, they watched as the knights unsheathed their swords and cut them down.

One by one, the iron hooves mercilessly trampled the fallen Dothraki, grinding them into the earth , forever becoming one with the land.

Whoosh.

Whoosh.

The heavy cavalry continued their onslaught, crushing any remaining resistance from the Dothraki. Those who were once proud warriors now lay broken and defeated, their dreams of conquest extinguished.

As the curtain fell on this brutal conflict, the outcome was clear. Viserys and his forces had emerged victorious, their enemies scattered and broken. The remnants of the Dothraki Khalasar would now have to face a new reality, their once-feared power diminished.

And as the dust settled on the battlefield, the survivors would have to pick up the pieces and forge a new path, whether that meant joining another Khalasar or forming their own.

But for now, the battle was over, and the Andalosi could finally breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that they had survived and triumphed against all odds.

.

Viserys' breathing was heavy beneath his armor, and his arm holding the lance felt a severe burning sensation, as he had exhausted his strength.

His warhorse, too, had spent all its energy, its body burning hot, and sweat dripping onto the ground, mingling with the nauseating blood.

"Your Grace."

An attendant quickly rushed forward to help Viserys dismount from his steed.

Clang.

The young king's armor rattled as he was lifted off the horse, his body drenched in blood like a gourd, having killed an untold number of enemies.

His legs felt weak as he stood, and with the help of his attendant, he removed the silver helmet from his head.

Viserys then took in deep breaths of fresh air.

All the heavy cavalry soldiers, with the assistance of their attendants, dismounted their horses as well, for they were as exhausted as the young king and unable to do so on their own.

Their warhorses were also drained, their heavy breathing from their lungs sounding like they were about to explode. Sweat mixed with blood dripped down, and the dismounting knights' shifting heavy armor could potentially pull their horses to the ground, causing injury or even death.

"The war is over," Viserys declared, his chest heaving. With the help of his attendant, he gradually removed the rest of his armor, freeing himself from its weight.

Click.

The attendant removed Viserys' breastplate, and the king felt his breathing become much smoother.

From dawn to dusk.

The battle had lasted an entire day.

Now, besides the bodies scattered across the field, there were no Dothraki in sight. The dead were dead, and the rest had fled in all directions.

The setting sun cast its dying light upon the chaotic battlefield.

Even if Viserys wanted to pursue the Dothraki, he lacked the strength to do so, and their horses were slower than the Dothraki's.

"Has Drogo's body been found?" Viserys asked, removing his armor and sitting down on a Dothraki corpse without concern for the filth. After catching his breath and wiping the sweat from his brow, he spoke.

"I don't know," the attendant replied, shaking his head, as he had not received any news on this matter.

"Your Grace."

At that moment, a fast horse approached from a distance. A soldier rode on its back, bearing news. He arrived in front of Viserys and dismounted.

"Your Grace, we have found the body of Khal Drogo."

"Really?" Viserys stood up suddenly upon hearing the soldier's words, but he felt dizzy.

"Your Grace."

He was supported by the guard beside him, but Viserys waved his hand after taking a breath. He was just a little weak, and he would be fine after eating something.

But there was a more important matter at hand.

"Take me to see it."