Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

For ten consecutive days, Rhett's army was building camps. They also harassed Meereen with catapults and giant crossbows. The huge stones and crossbow bolts fell intermittently on the walls of Meereen, causing no real damage, but triggering great panic and unease.

Reed was not in a hurry to launch a full-scale attack, but rather enjoyed the pleasure of slowly tormenting his opponent.

The Meereen reinforcements still hadn't shown up, but the camp was becoming increasingly fortified. After finishing their day's military duties, Reed and Damon habitually whiled away the time with beer and roast meat.

There are two benefits to drinking beer. One is that it can provide enough energy to meet the high energy consumption of soldiers. The other is that it is low in alcohol content, so even if you drink until your stomach is bloated, you won't get too drunk and it won't interfere with your work.

Just as Reed sprinkled cumin and pepper on the roasted lamb leg, a scout came to report: "My lord, a messenger from Rhys has delivered a letter to Prince Damon."

"Have you checked it?" Ever since he was hit hard by the Faceless One, Reed had become much more cautious.

"No problem."

Damon snatched the letter.

The letter came from Ries, a city renowned for its thriving prostitution scene, and carried a faint scent of perfume, so it was undoubtedly from a lover.

Rhett remarked sarcastically, "War raged for three months, but a love letter was worth a fortune."

The dissolute prince chuckled, tapped open Mesalia's sealing wax seal with his greasy fingers, glanced at it quickly, then his smile vanished. He stared at the letter for a while before tossing it into the roasting charcoal.

Seeing this, Reed quickly moved the lamb leg away, afraid that the acrid smell of burning parchment would spoil his lamb.

"Something bad?"

"It's nothing." More than his mistress's miscarriage, Damon was bothered by his brother's attitude and Otto's offense, but those could be dealt with later.

······

Meereen City Walls.

The low-intensity fighting gave the great lords in the basement of the pyramids the opportunity to inspect the front lines.

"Are they just going to drag this out like this?"

"They have well-trained troops, ample supplies, a sturdy camp, and two dragons; they're very comfortable. We're the ones who's suffering and impatient. Why don't we just wait it out?" Xizidala said with a worried expression.

"But if we keep dragging this out, our supplies will dwindle and our morale will plummet," a leader said worriedly.

Hitzdala sighed at this useful but useless remark. What could they do as the defending side that had lost the initiative?

"The Dothraki attack will surely break the deadlock!" another great leader said, his eyes gleaming with determination.

This is the sentence that has been mentioned most frequently in recent meetings and discussions.

Hizdalah looked at the great leader who had mentioned the Dothraki, his heart filled with mixed emotions. The Dothraki were renowned for their powerful cavalry and swift offensives, and their arrival could indeed change the course of the battle. But on the other hand, whether the Dothraki would even come was truly uncertain.

Whether they can arrive on schedule, and how effective they will be, are all unknowns. We cannot...

Kratz Daznak glared at him. Some things shouldn't be said in this setting. This junior is considered a leading figure among the second generation, but his temperament still needs to be tempered.

The lords fell silent, each acutely aware of the gravity of the situation. While Reid's army appeared relaxed, their composure only amplified the oppressive atmosphere. They had seized control of the battlefield, while Meereen could only react passively.

A gust of wind blew by, bringing with it a strange odor.

"What's that awful smell!" A man covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief.

"They were slaves nailed to the cross, their corpses rotting."

"Damn it, aren't they afraid of starting a plague?" Sizidala roared. He'd been busy with the city walls these past few days, and now these unreliable insects had pulled this stunt.

"The steward said this would effectively deter the slaves and prevent them from rioting."

"A riot?" Kratz raised an eyebrow; the occurrence of a slave riot at such a critical time made him highly sensitive.

"Yes, the condition of the slaves has been problematic recently."

"How many times is this?"

"This is the fifth outbreak. It started with only a few dozen people, but now it's over a hundred."

"Why is this situation escalating? The slaves aren't being fed properly."

"Eating enough is not a problem, it's just that the workload has increased recently, mainly because of that declaration, which has had a huge impact."

"Kill! Kill as many as you capture and hang them on the city wall as a warning!" Kratz said fiercely.

"We can't let the corpses rot in the city, we have to get rid of them!" Sizidala said seriously, but suddenly noticed the flag fluttering in the wind, which was coming from outside the city!

The stench wasn't coming from a corpse! After sniffing it a few times, I realized it wasn't the stench of decay, but rather the foul, fishy smell of animal body odor.

"Woo~!" A mournful horn sound came from Reid's tent.

The lingering stench, carried far by the wind, came from a massive number of Dothraki and their warhorses; the reinforcements the people of Meereen had been hoping for had finally arrived.

"It's finally here!" Damon downed the contents of his glass in one gulp, a hint of madness on his face. He desperately needed to vent.

"Wishing you victory! Burp~!" Reed raised his beer and gave a toast from afar.

Damon mounted the horse brought by the cavalry and galloped quickly out of the camp, while Reid strode towards a tall tower in the camp. He wanted to observe the battle and also be wary of an attack from within Meereen.

As Reid climbed the command tower, the crimson dragon took flight, its wings supporting a formation of cavalry in an arrowhead array, with heavy cavalry at the front and light cavalry on either flank, charging toward the Dothraki.

The Dothraki, mounted on their warhorses, surged towards Reid's army like a black tide. Wielding Arak scimitars, bows, and spears, and led by Khal and Ko, they roared with overwhelming force.

The sunlight and wind were unfavorable to Reid's cavalry. The Dothraki, with the wind at their backs and the sun behind them, used their massive numbers to kick up clouds of dust, while the heavy cavalry and horse archers, facing the sun against the wind, could only squint. In the billowing dust, the Dothraki's advance could only be seen at the edges of the smoke. The main force remained hidden, barely visible, within the dust.

It must be said that nomadic peoples of the steppes were extremely talented in the use of cavalry. They could turn the advantage of a single attack position into a number of factors that increased their chances of victory, such as the advantage of battlefield visibility, the advantage of arrow range, and the advantage of melee combat.

However, the strongest bargaining chip still lies with Reed.

"Dragonfire!" Damon commanded. Clark, hovering in mid-air, swooped down, its long, serpentine neck arching, spewing forth a continuous stream of crimson dragonfire. The dust storm continued unabated. Damon couldn't determine how many enemies had been burned to death, but he didn't need to. He just needed to burn along the path of his own cavalry, clearing a way for the charging riders.

The heavily armored cavalry, like an impregnable bulwark, charged through the scorched, still-burning path of embers, meeting the Dothraki charge head-on. The clash of blades against armor produced a deafening roar, sparks flying. The light cavalry, like agile cheetahs, flanked the Dothraki, constantly firing arrows to alleviate the pressure on the heavy cavalry. However, the Dothraki were no pushovers. With their superior horsemanship and seamless teamwork, they attempted to break through the Reid cavalry's formation.

As the cavalry of both sides clashed, the billowing dust obscured both sides. The crimson dragon circled in the air, but could find no way to bite or breathe fire.

"Damn it!" Damon cursed.

The battle intensified, the roars of the Dothraki mingling with the shouts of Reid's army, creating a cloud of dust that shook the earth. Reid, atop the tower, kept a close watch on the battlefield, maintaining his focused posture despite not being able to see the specifics of the fighting.

Whether we can launch a full-scale attack on Meereen depends on how many Dothraki we can eliminate in this battle.

Amidst the smoke and dust, Reed's army, though facing a massive number of Dothraki, gradually regained its footing thanks to its unwavering will and excellent tactics.

The heavy cavalry advanced step by step like mobile fortresses, while the light cavalry moved like darting blades, constantly searching for weaknesses in the Dothraki formation.

However, the Dothraki were not an easy enemy to deal with. With their numerical superiority and excellent horsemanship, they constantly changed tactics, trying to find weaknesses in Rhed's army. The two sides traded blows, resulting in a stalemate.

Just then, a crimson dragon descended from the sky, unleashing an even more intense burst of dragonfire that instantly ignited a section of the Dothraki territory. Damon, riding his Bloodworm, landed directly on the ground, hoping to break the stalemate in this way.

The Dothraki formation finally crumbled. Some Roaring Warriors charged fearlessly toward the dragon, while others began to flee in all directions, trying to escape the inferno. However, Reid's army gave them no chance; heavy and light cavalry charged simultaneously, engulfing even more Dothraki in blood and fire.

The Dothraki began to scatter. From a few wounded Roaring Warriors turning back, to small groups of cavalry fleeing, to the collapse of the entire formation, in just a quarter of an hour, Damon looked around and all he could see were the backs of Dothraki horses.

Tearing the arrow shafts from the black armor, Damon gave the order to pursue: "Heavy cavalry, rest! Squires, give chase!"

In cavalry combat, the casualties from fierce charges are minor; in pursuit, the losses from flanking attacks are the major contributors. The 1,700-plus horse archers finally had their chance to prove themselves. They charged along the route of the retreating Dothraki, scattering, intimidating, and chasing them. With the excitement of hunting prey, the horse archers closed in at a measured pace before precisely drawing their bows and unleashing their arrows, or spurring their horses to cut down their enemies with their scimitars. The fleeing Dothraki forces, caught in the crossfire of the horse archers, struggled to maintain their formation, and their casualties skyrocketed.

As the Dothraki retreated, the smoke and dust from the battlefield gradually dissipated, revealing a devastated battlefield. Soldiers began clearing the battlefield and treating the wounded.

Reed, who had witnessed all of this from the top of the tower, smiled with satisfaction and turned to look at Meereen: "They didn't have the guts to coordinate an attack from the inside at the best opportunity, and there won't be another chance later."

"They've finished their attack, now it's our turn! Attack! Full-scale assault!" Reed excitedly issued the battle order.

……

"I think you'd better go back to the basement," Sizidala said gravely, looking at the military camp outside the city that was now boiling with noise.

Not long ago, some of the great leaders who had been actively trying to cooperate with the Dothraki and argue heatedly with the conservative Hizdarah immediately changed their minds.

After the great lords descended from the city walls, Kratz stared intently at Sizdala for a moment, then slowly said, "If things are hopeless, put on that red feathered hat."

Upon hearing this, Sizidala's expression changed slightly, and he was about to explain something.

Kratz interrupted him. He greatly admired the tenacity and persistence that Sizdala had recently displayed, but he also understood that sometimes, young people had to learn to compromise and yield. "The end of an old era requires martyrs, and the arrival of a new era also requires pioneers. I wouldn't feel sorry for any number of incompetent and foolish people who die, but if the elites of Meereen bleed dry, will our people still have a future?"

"Sometimes, it's important to be alive. This Dragon King might kill many people, but he would never kill everyone; what he wants is to rule."

Sizidala fell silent.

A hint of relief flashed in Kratz's eyes. Only by listening can one think, only by thinking can one hesitate, and only then can one make a prudent decision. He patted Sizdala on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Sizidala stood alone on the city wall, watching the enemy siege force gradually approach. He understood Kratz's words, but Meereen could not give up so easily without even trying to resist.

Strong resistance is also a necessary bargaining chip in negotiations.