Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 180 Brain Damage
Zheko turned his horse around and roared. Moments later, the two riders clashed again. Barristan's longsword and Zheko's scimitar collided, the metallic scraping sound piercing the eardrums.

Barristan is experienced and his moves are unpredictable, but Zheko is young, strong, and quick-witted.

The two exchanged blows, neither gaining the upper hand for a time.

But Barristan was old and gradually became exhausted after the fierce battle. At this moment, Zheko suddenly changed his move, and his scimitar went straight for Barristan's face with great speed.

The old knight hastily parried, but it was too late. He dodged to the side to avoid having his head smashed, but his shoulder was still slashed, and blood gushed out instantly, staining his chest armor red.

"Ha! You lose!"

In the next encounter, Dzeko's warhorse rammed into Barristan's mount, and with a loud crash, the old knight was finally thrown from his horse.

"Dzeko!" Rajalo suddenly shouted, "Alive!"

Upon hearing this, Zheko dismounted, darted forward, dodged Barristan's sword, and stepped on the old knight's chest with his boots.

"Surrender or die?" Zheko looked down at the old knight, his scimitar pressed against his throat.

"Kill me." Barristan gasped for breath, his eyes showing no fear, only defiance and pride.

Several warriors surrounded Barristan and bound him tightly, making him look like a dumpling.

Rahalo rode up to Barristan, looked down at him, and said, "Barristan, you are very brave to challenge an army single-handedly!"

Barristan looked up, his eyes resolute. "You can kill me if you want, but you can never destroy my honor!"

"I'm curious, why did you come to challenge me?"

"You have insulted the honor of Earl Manfred Swin and his descendants!" the old knight exclaimed angrily, "and destroyed the castle he left behind!"

"Oh……"

Lahalo remembered that before Barristan became a knight, he had served as squire to Count Manford.

So, he quickly pulled the contract out of his pocket.

“You need to provide evidence when you speak. Are you aware that Manford owes Rogers Bank 360,000 gold coins?”

Barristan may be old, but he's not stupid. He stared at the parchment so close to him, clearly remembering the incident.

“Paying back debts is a matter of course. Manford not only defaulted on his debts, but also concealed this information from his descendants, believing that Rogers Bank was incapable of recovering the debt.”

"The Dothraki have their own honor. We are just collecting debts for Roger Bank. Besides, the Sven family members have already been released."

Rahalo scoffed, "And you? You want to help the Sven family renege on their debts?"

The old knight was immediately dumbfounded.

Lahalo ignored him and turned to order, "Put him in the cabin and hang the white cloak on the flagpole."

Defeating a former captain of the Imperial Guard, a formidable force in the Seven Kingdoms, is a great honor and something worth commemorating.

The warriors dragged Barristan toward the warship, and the old knight ceased his struggle, as if resigned to his fate.

Soon, Barristan's white cloak was hung high on the flagship's flagpole. Under the sunlight, the white fabric was particularly eye-catching, like a flag fluttering in the wind.

As the fleet passed a cliff, a commotion was heard coming from the mountaintop.

Rahalo stood at the bow of the ship and looked up, where he saw a group of soldiers in golden robes come into view.

The leader was a young man wearing a golden helmet and golden armor, his blond hair gleaming in the sunlight, and he looked to be about fifteen or sixteen years old.

Joffrey Baratheon.

Joffrey also met Lahallo.

His hunting party happened to be passing by and witnessed the white flag being raised on the flagpole. Joffrey stared at the "white flag" as if he had discovered something extraordinary, and his face lit up with ecstasy.

He shouted, “Look! The Dothraki have raised a white flag against me! They are afraid of me!”

The golden-robed soldiers and royal guards around the king exchanged glances, looking slightly embarrassed, but none of them dared to correct their king.

Joffrey became more and more excited as he spoke, riding his horse back and forth on the cliff to display his royal majesty.

"I am the king! He knew I was coming! So he raised the white flag! Ha ha!" He laughed, pointing to the distant fleet. "Look, the Dothraki fear the name of Joffrey Baratheon!"

The royal guards lowered their heads and remained silent; none dared to disobey the king.

Everyone knew perfectly well that it was not a white flag of surrender, but who dared to tell the king the truth?

Offending the king would result in a humiliation far worse than death.

Joffrey walked triumphantly to the edge of the cliff and shouted at the distant Dothraki fleet, "Surrender, barbarians! You are only fit to be slaves of Baratheon!"

His voice carried far across the sea. Rahalo faintly heard the sound coming from the cliff and frowned. Now, almost only a small golden dot shimmered in the sunlight.

Suddenly, Rahalo's face broke into a mischievous expression. He placed one foot on the ship's railing and waved his hand, "Warriors, tell that king that Rahalo, the Seventh Whip, fears King Joffrey the most!"

"What do you mean?" Lazar was taken aback. "My blood, you're damaging your own reputation!"

"Shout it when I tell you to, or he won't hear you!"

Lajalo was anxious; he couldn't miss such a good opportunity!
To destroy something, you must first make it go mad.

If anyone sitting in the iron chair would be most beneficial to Laharo's great cause, it would undoubtedly be Joffrey.

Lahallo even wished that Joffrey would live a long and healthy life, and that the more wretched Westeros became, the more the people would yearn for the Targaryen's return.

No matter how confused Lazar was, he could only relay Khao's orders.

Soon, the entire fleet was shouting in unison:
"Lahallo is afraid of Joffrey!"

It started with the Shield of Pentos. Although the Dothraki didn't understand Common Tongue, they joined in the shouting, their voices ringing out in unison, deafening and echoing across the sea and reaching the distant cliffs.

Joffrey listened intently, then burst into ecstasy, "They're calling my name!"

He was incredibly excited, raising his fists high, "Did you hear that? Even the Seven Whip of Gods is afraid of Joffrey Baratheon!"

The Royal Guards and the men in golden robes remained silent, not daring to look the king in the eye, for fear of bursting into laughter.

"Your Majesty, you are truly magnificent!" Genos Slint finally couldn't help but offer a compliment.

"Of course!"

Joffrey spread his arms wide triumphantly, as if embracing the whole world, and after a moment, he waved his hand dismissively.

"Quickly, send men to raise my banner! Make the barbarians kneel before my banner!"

"Oh, and also, inform Grand Scholar Paisell that from now on this place will be called Mount Liwei!"

Joffrey stood atop the cliff, basking in the illusion of victory, with golden robes flanking him, the royal banners held high on either side: the roaring lion of the Lannisters on one side, and the crowned stag of the Baratheons on the other.

As the fleet moved further and further away from the cliffs, Rahalo withdrew his gaze from the two flags, turned his head, and stared at Barristan with a mocking expression.

"Is your king brain-dead?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the deck erupted in laughter. Barristan's face turned red, but he was speechless.

The royal family he served has now fallen to such a state.

(End of this chapter)