Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 144 Aliens

"They're here," Red Sheep's voice was barely audible.

The sound of hooves grew louder as the dust rose from the edge of the forest. About eight hundred Dothraki cavalrymen charged into the woods, many of them wounded and looking disheveled.

Arya's gaze locked onto the Dothraki leader, whose braid was the longest and had more bells than the others; he must be the leader of the group.

The red sheep made a bird-like sound, signaling the soldiers to wait for the best opportunity.

The Dothraki walked through the forest, frequently looking back. Eventually, they seemed to think they had shaken off their pursuers, and their expressions gradually relaxed.

"attack!"

Just then, Red Ram gave the order, and hundreds of tripwires flew out simultaneously, like a swarm of flying snakes, wrapping around the limbs and hooves of the Dothraki warhorses.

The warhorses neighed and fell to the ground. The riders, caught off guard, fell from their backs one after another. Roars rang out frequently, and in the chaos, stones rained down from all directions.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Arya witnessed a novel way of fighting.

The Lazarin slingers spun their leather pouches, and the stones shot out at astonishing speeds, almost without a parabola, striking the Dothraki on the head and nose with a crisp, terrifying sound.

The riders' heads were splattered on the ground like split watermelons, red and white.

A Dothraki warrior pushed off the warhorse that was pressing down on him and had just stood up when three meteor bolts simultaneously entangled his legs and feet, causing him to fall back to the ground. Then, three stone projectiles struck him, shattering his sternum, and he was never able to stand up again.

"Brothers, avenge our fallen loved ones!" Red Sheep roared, drew his dagger, and led his warriors forward.

Arya, also clutching a dagger, followed behind Red Sheep.

It was her first time on the battlefield, and she was so nervous she could almost hear her own heartbeat. But the wolf blood of the Stark family began to boil within her, making her involuntarily follow the warriors, howling as she charged forward.

Until she rushed up to a Dothraki man, face to face with his massive, mountain-like body, the shadow of him enveloped her, and the murderous aura she had cultivated from countless battles enveloped her.

It was only then that she realized how powerless her water dance practice had been when facing the battlefield.

Her opponent grinned menacingly, raised his scimitar high, and brought it down with a fierce slash. She felt as if she was about to be cleaved in two.

Suddenly, a powerful force struck from the side, and her body was involuntarily thrown to one side.

In her line of sight, a soldier pushed her aside and stood alone against the enemy's blade.

Arya fell to the ground with a thud, rolled several times, and saw the world spinning before her eyes.

As she groaned and got up, shaking her head, the battlefield had become a chaotic mess.

Although the Dothraki were brave, they lost the advantage of their mounts and were caught in the forest warfare that the Lazarin were good at, so they quickly fell into a disadvantageous position.

The whistling of slings was incessant, mixed with the sounds of bones cracking and dying groans.

In less than an hour, the battlefield gradually calmed down.

More than 700 enemies fell in pools of blood, while the Lazarin people also lost nearly 200 men.

Arya tripped and fell as soon as she entered the arena, getting a big bump on her head and scraping her arms and hands, but unfortunately, she didn't score a single point.

Red Sheep's face was covered in blood and dirt. Although he had won the battle, he felt little joy in revenge.

"Where is Mulo?"

“They escaped,” a soldier gritted his teeth, “taking a few trusted followers north.” “Muro! I’ll kill you sooner or later! To avenge my sister!”

A roar from the red ram pierced through the forest and soared into the sky.

After the battlefield was cleared, the sky darkened. Since Arya was a girl and also Laharo's handmaid, Red Sheep specially arranged for her to rest alone in a small cave.

Although she tried her best to come along, Rahalo did not stop her, and the Lazarin warriors did not say anything, but she could tell that she was a key person to be protected.

She didn't like the feeling of being treated differently.

However, she had no time to think now. A strong sense of exhaustion swept over her. She leaned against the rock wall, closed her eyes, and quickly fell asleep.

The dream came very quickly.

In her dream, she was no longer human, but a wild beast, on all fours, with powerful muscles, its dark blue fur barely visible in the shadows.

She could smell things from miles away and hear the rustling of leaves in the breeze. She stood in front of a small puddle, her face illuminated by the moonlight, her golden pupils gleaming.

She turned into a shadow lynx.

She often dreams that she is Nymeria, the direwolf she was forced to banish, leading her pack across the vast northern ice plains, and sometimes even hunting humans.

Now, her consciousness resides within the lynx's body. She can feel the lynx's hunger and thirst for killing. She seems to have become a predator of the night, the undisputed king of the forest!
Arya used her sense of smell to detect the mixture of human blood, sweat, and fear.

Following the scent, she ran and jumped among the branches, moving swiftly northward with light and silent steps.

Two hours later, Arya spotted a faint light. The Dothraki horse king she had seen earlier while lying in ambush in the forest, along with his five henchmen, were resting in a forest clearing, their warhorses tethered nearby.

Arya lurked in the shadows, waiting quietly until midnight, when everyone else was fast asleep, leaving her alone to keep watch.

So she took action.

She was like a black lightning bolt, silently sweeping across the grass, leaping up, her sharp claws tearing open the Night's Watchman's throat as easily as tearing a piece of parchment.

Before the opponent could even utter a sound, he collapsed. The stench of blood from the corpse filled Arya's nostrils. Arya could feel the lynx's excitement, and it was the complete opposite of the helplessness she felt when facing the Dothraki with her sword.

In her dreams, she is the ruler!

Muro awoke with a start, grabbed his scimitar, but looked around in the darkness and found nothing.

Arya swept through the camp, tearing the throats of four other Dothraki with claws, and without hesitation, she disappeared back into the darkness.

In my line of sight, Muro leaned against a large tree, his hand gripping the Yarak scimitar trembling slightly, his eyes filled with fear.

He cursed in Dothraki, his voice trembling, "If you've got the guts, come out and fight me to the death! Don't hide and be afraid to show your face!"

Arya could sense Muro's fear, and she thoroughly enjoyed it.

Then, she slowly emerged from the shadows. In the moonlight, her dark blue fur was barely visible, and her eyes, like molten gold, shone with an eerie light.

Muro kept brandishing his scimitar, trying to scare her away, but she just slowly circled around him, sometimes hiding in the woods, sometimes climbing up a tree and suddenly appearing, like a hunter toying with his prey, constantly exhausting his energy.

When Muro was exhausted and lost his balance, Arya seized the opportunity to pounce on him, her sharp teeth biting into his throat and easily piercing his carotid artery.

Muro was pinned to the ground by a pair of powerful front paws. His struggles grew weaker and weaker until he twitched a few times and then lay still.

Arya suddenly woke up from her dream, a faint taste of blood still lingering in her mouth.

(End of this chapter)