Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 70 War Elephants
Outside the city was an open plain where the fields had been trampled beyond recognition. Under the sunlight, the ground was steaming with heat and the air was distorted.

At the rear of the Golden Group, Captain Harry Strickland sat upright on his horse. He was fat, with dense air bangs on his round head. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his thick palms.

"The Dothraki are but a swarm of locusts!" he shouted. "Heavy cavalry, charge!"

With Harry's order, the flags behind him waved and the Golden Regiment's heavy cavalry launched a charge!

The two heavy cavalry phalanxes of 500 men on the left and right formed neat formations, forming a two-wing encirclement of the Dothraki light cavalry in the middle. The two steel torrents gradually converged towards the middle like two crab claws, and the earth was shaking!

Some Dothraki cavalrymen had no time to dodge and were knocked off their horses. They were instantly engulfed by the iron hooves and their bodies were completely destroyed.

The governors on the city wall were delighted.

"Rahlo is losing!" Eccles Varian said with a smile. "The steppe cavalry are no match for the heavy cavalry!"

However, Laharo seemed not to have heard anything and stared at the battlefield calmly.

Old Moso in the center of the army seemed to feel Laharo's gaze. The battle-hardened veteran whistled, and a horn sounded behind him, and two thousand light cavalry quickly dispersed.

Then, another two thousand light cavalry rushed out of the battle formation.

They worked in units of a hundred men, circumventing the heavy cavalry all the way. When their momentum ran out and their horses lost speed, they drew their longbows and rained arrows, harassing them from all angles and in all directions.

The other group joined up with the previous light cavalry and attacked the enemy's main formation directly, without charging, but harassing them.

War is not about soldiers, but about morale.

After a battle, there are only three possible outcomes: we win a great victory, we lose a great defeat, or both sides suffer losses.

The last one is the least likely to happen.

A general would rather retreat than fight a battle in which he would kill a thousand enemies and lose eight hundred of his own.

It all depends on who runs out of morale first and starts running for their lives, turning into a pile of loose sand. By then, it will be normal for 500 people to chase and kill tens of thousands of people.

The advantages of the Dothraki light cavalry are speed and mounted archery. As long as they correct their habit of mindless charges, they will be an invincible army on the plains.

The Dothraki bowstrings trembled, and arrows covered the sky like locusts and fell like a rain of arrows into the enemy camp.

Many crossbowmen were pierced through the throat by sharp arrows before they could even restring their bows. They fell to the ground, twitching a few times and then became motionless.

"Damn barbarians! How did they change their nature?"

The crossbow commander Baqu was furious as he watched his men falling to the ground.

This Summer Islander had dark skin, waist-length white hair that fluttered in the breeze, and a cloak woven of green and orange feathers, making him look like a peacock and stand out on the battlefield.

He waved his command flag and shouted, "Those in the front row, raise your shields! Archers, shoot! Shoot! Aim for those with the most bells!"

The Golden Regiment's heavy cavalry has assembled and is ready for a second charge.

But when they turned their horses around, they found that the enemy was scattered throughout the fields, and the enemy formation was too far away. If they rushed over, they would be seeking death!

Heavy cavalry Sergeant Bened Berene lifted his visor, scanned the battlefield, and cursed, "Damn it! Gods, tell me where to charge? Five hundred men chasing one?"

Jon Connington, who was standing beside Harry, frowned as he said in a deep voice, "These Dothraki are unlike any we've seen before. They never charge like they're dying. They're waiting for our morale to run out and our formation to collapse!" "The city gates are closing, and we're just one step away. Now we're attacked from all sides, and the barbarian khal won't negotiate with us. He just wants to wear us out completely."

Harry also realized that he had been badly betrayed by Illyrio. He couldn't fight, couldn't retreat, and couldn't get the money. But now that things had come to this, there was no other way.

The Sergeants-Majors looked livid as they tried to maintain their formation, but the soldiers suffered greatly from the Dothraki's harassment tactics.

The archers were not good at close combat, the heavy infantry were out of reach, and the heavy cavalry, due to their speed disadvantage, could not even catch up with the enemy. Their comrades might fall down around them at any time, and they could not even find a target to attack!

"A protracted war is doomed to failure!"

Harry gritted his teeth and shouted an order, "Success or failure depends on this. Send out the war elephants to attack the enemy's main formation! The main force advances! Charge forward!"

At a command, the army began to move forward slowly, and suddenly thirty-six Essos war elephants appeared at the rear of the battlefield!

The red and gold armor gleamed in the sun, and each war elephant carried a wooden tower on its back, with six archers and javelin throwers standing inside.

They are the secret weapons of the Golden Group and their reliance for victory in every battle!

The elephant's hooves stepped on the ground, and the earth trembled!
Spears were tied to the elephant's tusks, sickles were hung on the trunks, and the huge roar resounded through the sky!
Most Dothraki had never seen this kind of animal. Their scimitars could chop the Heracles and their arrows could penetrate bison, but how could they fight this giant in plate armor?
When the Dothraki horses saw the huge creature appear, they all pawed the ground in panic and snorted continuously, as if they had seen their natural enemy. This was a suppression at the genetic level.

The warriors pulled at the reins, trying to control their horses, but they still began to retreat slowly and uncontrollably.

The governors on the city walls also saw those huge monsters, listened to the heart-shaking roars, felt the shaking of the city walls, and their excitement was mixed with fear.

Eccles clenched his fists, his palms covered in sweat. He trembled and said to Simon, "The Golden Group has revealed its trump card! What right do these barbarians have to fight the Golden Group?"

Simon pointed at the Dothraki in the distance and said excitedly, "Look, their warhorses are about to be scared away! Without their warhorses, the Dothraki are just a bunch of barbaric people who eat raw meat and drink blood!"

On the other side, the emerging merchant class looked at each other with different expressions.

Leon frowned, his fingers tightly gripping the city wall, his knuckles turning white from the force, the corners of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

Supporting Rahalo was a huge gamble, meant to change the old order.

If they win, both sides can cooperate, gain a voice in parliament, and enact laws that benefit businessmen.

If you lose, you can only survive under the shadow of the nobles, eat leftovers, and worry about retaliation.

At this moment, Rahalo's mouth curled up slightly. He suddenly raised the scimitar high, circled it above his head several times, and then chopped it down, with the sharp blade pointing directly at the war elephant!
At the same time, Old Mosso received the order, raised the horn, took a deep breath, and blew it hard:
“Wuwu…wuwu…wuwu…”

The short and low sound of the horn resounded throughout the battlefield, and a desolate and murderous atmosphere echoed across the plain!

The 4,000 Dothraki cavalry in front heard the horn and immediately stopped attacking. They turned their horses and began to retreat at full speed.

However, the Kas tribesmen behind Old Moso rode out on horseback. Several large leather bags were hung on the saddles of the five hundred light cavalrymen. Inside were four or five small pottery jars sealed with grease-soaked linen. They were Molotov cocktails!
At Mosuo's command, the Kas tribesmen drew their flints and lit torches.

"Death!"

"Death!"

He roared loudly, and the Kas tribesmen also roared the same war cry, the sound drowned out the roar of the war elephants and spread across the earth!
Old Mosuo rode his horse in the front, and the Kas tribe followed closely behind him. They were divided into several small teams, and their horses' hooves raised dust as they galloped towards different war elephants!

(End of this chapter)