Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

A hail of stones and crossbow bolts streaked across the sky, crashing heavily against the battered walls of Meereen. Heavy swordsmen and archers charged resolutely towards the ancient city. Large numbers of laborers carried long ladders, providing cover behind them, while at the rear were the chain-hammer soldiers, ready to launch a surprise attack at any moment. The eyes of these elite soldiers were filled with unwavering resolve and ruthlessness.

The Meereen defenders on the city walls, braving the fear of falling boulders, continued to fire arrows at the enemy below. Although these arrows seemed weak and powerless against the armor and shields of the heavily armored swordsmen, they persisted, for the disciplined guards were emotionless killing machines—the Unsullied.

"Hiss~!"

The Night Fury's enormous form flew through the air, its massive shadow obscuring the city walls where the fierce battle raged.

"The dragon! The dragon is coming!"

"Crossbows! Fire crossbows!"

The dragon, a hundred meters in size, possessed scales so hard and skin so thick that it was immune to most crossbow bolts. A dozen bolts were aimed at the diving Night Fury and fired. Several bolts struck the scales on its chest, sending sparks flying, while another bolt pierced the wing membrane of one of its wings, leaving a gaping hole the size of a bowl. This initial injury ignited the Night Fury's rage.

"Dragon Flame!" Reid commanded from the dragon's back.

A dark blue, explosive column of fire descended from the sky, slicing through the undulating city walls and burning a large number of defenders, along with their defensive equipment, to ashes.

With the city's defenses suppressed, lightly armed laborers quickly erected long ladders onto the city wall.

"Pour out the oil! Pour out the oil!" the officer shouted hoarsely. The remaining Immaculates, ignoring the scalding heat, desperately tried to turn over the already burning oil pot.

Boiling oil, flowing from the conduit into the city walls, gushed out through the terracotta pipes embedded in the walls and from the mouths of the harpies, splashing onto the heads of the attacking troops. The sizzling oil and the heart-wrenching screams echoed across the battlefield, accompanied by a strange, pungent aroma of fried food.

Several torches were also thrown down. With a hiss, bright yellow flames rose up, accompanied by billowing smoke, engulfing a large portion of the attacking force. Laborers covered in flames and attacking soldiers climbing ladders howled as they tried to extinguish the flames, but they quickly disappeared into the fire.

The counterattack could not stop the fearless attacking troops. More ladders were erected on the city walls, and archers braved a rain of arrows to get close and suppress the defending troops. The chain hammer soldiers, like ants, relied on the simple ladders to rush up the city walls in dense numbers.

Reid, riding a massive black dragon, continuously swooped down and spewed dragonfire to block the troops attempting to reinforce the city walls.

Hizdala gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, the invisible banshee statue digging into his palm. He forced himself to remain calm, constantly scanning the battle on the city walls, searching for an opportunity to counterattack. However, the current situation left him helpless; the enemy's chainhammer infantry had already charged onto the walls and were engaging his soldiers in hand-to-hand combat.

There were simply too many of them; they surged forward like a tidal wave, relentlessly assaulting Meereen's defenses. Because of that damned dragon, their reinforcements couldn't be sent up. The Unsullied, though fierce, were no match for overwhelming numbers. As more and more enemies climbed the walls, the Unsullied fell one by one, and the defenses on the walls grew increasingly weak.

With no other option but to consolidate their forces and prepare for street fighting, Sizdalar was about to make the decision to abandon the city walls.

"Woo~!" A mournful horn sounded from the camp, an alarm signal!

Reed, mid-air, looked back and was so shocked he blurted out a vulgar curse: "Fuck!"

At this critical juncture, the Dothraki have returned with a vengeance!

It was the same dust cloud, the same angle, and the same Dothraki. Judging by the area covered by the dust, this time the scale was even larger, and these steppe barbarians had chosen a more cunning timing. More than half of Reid's army was committed to the siege and couldn't withdraw anytime soon. The cavalry charged quickly and had no time to adjust their formation before engaging in battle.

Ahead of the massive cavalry dust was the mounted archer force being relentlessly pursued and shot by the Dothraki. The retreating mounted archers maintained their basic formation, waiting for an opportunity to counterattack using the Mangudai tactic. Among the Dothraki were also many skilled archers on horseback. During the chase, arrows flew back and forth like locusts, and men from both sides were constantly hit by arrows, fell from their horses, and disappeared under the hooves of galloping horses.

"Halberd bearers, form ranks! Hold the line!"

"Archers, unleash a hail of arrows! Do not retreat!"

Braving the sparse crossbow bolts, Reed piloted the Night Fury low over his own army formation, loudly relaying orders.

The camp was built very sturdily, and the 4,000-strong garrison was more than enough to hold out.

But forget about getting large siege engines.

Because the infantry echelons were fully committed to the attack, the heavily armored units were crowded under the city walls, while most of the ranged units were left in the rear, facing the onslaught of the Dothraki.

In the chaos, many giant crossbows attempted to turn around and retaliate against the Dothraki. But they were quickly overwhelmed by the charging cavalry. Arak's scimitars severed the crossbow strings, and the rebounding crossbow arms even sent a mounted rider flying before collapsing under the immense kinetic energy they couldn't dissipate.

Even though they were three hundred yards away, not quite at the distance where the arrows would be effective, Reed's archers resolutely began their final act.

Every longbowman used the broadleaf arrow, which had two large, flat, sharp blades with vicious barbs. It did not aim to penetrate armor, but only to cut sharply, bleed quickly after being hit, and be difficult to pull out. It was specially prepared to kill warhorses.

The rising rain of arrows was dense and numerous, like locusts, drawing long parabolas in the air and accurately covering the Dothraki's charging route.

The horse struck by the arrow did not fall dead, but struggled violently, resisting the rider's control. However, it was quickly knocked to the ground by a galloping horse from behind and disappeared into the dust.

230 yards. The crossbowmen, with their bows cocked, joined the attack. But at such a distance, they could only fire in volleys, still creating chaos in the Dothraki cavalry vanguard. But like splashes of water in a torrent, they were quickly swallowed up by the cavalry surge behind them.

150 yards. The rain of arrows from the longbows finally unleashed its effective killing power. Many horses struck by arrows collapsed to the ground, tripping up even more cavalrymen following behind. But more Dothraki continued to surge forward like a tide. The ever-approaching cavalry front showed no sign of decreasing numbers.

At 50 yards, the crossbowmen joined the final barrage, and the longbowmen unleashed their full power as the distance closed. A large area collapsed in front of the roaring Dothraki cavalry, and countless warhorses neighed and fell to the ground, rolling under the hooves of the charging cavalry as if suddenly being pushed back.

After completing their final attack, these ranged units decisively abandoned their bows and crossbows, grabbed short swords, axes, ram's horn hammers, six-bladed hammers, and other short weapons, and roared as they charged toward the oncoming cavalry.

Damon arrived in his steed, Corakshyu, and a long, crimson breath carved a thick wall of fire in front of the ranged units.

Reid followed closely behind, and a wall of dark blue fire rose up.

The archers, who were preparing to fight to the death, stopped shouting and looked at the two walls of fire that made them feel somewhat safe with some suspicion.

But soon, accompanied by the trembling sound of hooves, burning warhorses and flame-covered Dothraki roaring warriors kept rushing out of the wall of fire.

A dense swarm of cavalry followed closely behind, extinguishing the wall of fire with their hooves.

The shouts continued, and these ranged troops, having abandoned their bows and crossbows, charged forward without hesitation, brandishing their blades and blunt weapons. They were then knocked away by warhorses, had their throats slit by scimitars, and were impaled by spears. Often, it took the lives of a dozen or more to drag a single Dothraki roaring warrior from his horse. But they also used their lives to slow the Dothraki charge.

When these Dothraki, whose horses had slowed, charged into the well-organized array of halberdiers and heavily armored swordsmen, they had lost their momentum and could no longer break through.

"Push forward! Leave no one alive!" Reed roared in mid-air, giving the order to the heavily armored infantry formation.

"Kill!"

The heavily armored soldiers, in dense formation, pushed forward, brandishing greatswords and halberds.

A cavalryman who is running is a true cavalryman; a cavalryman who has lost his footing is nothing more than an infantryman on horseback, especially one who is unarmored. Losing over four thousand ranged troops just to brake the charging Dothraki cavalry is painful even for someone as powerful as Reed. But this was a worthwhile investment.

A dense, ear-piercing screech of armor plates rubbing against each other, accompanied by the thunderous sound of footsteps, instantly filled the air. The direction had been reversed and the formation regrouped. Heavy swordsmen and halberdiers, shoulder to shoulder, formed a tight infantry square and began to move forward.

The runaway warhorse collided with the dense ranks of armored soldiers.

Warhorses collided with armored soldiers, their hooves trampling helmets. Scimitars and arrows left a trail of sparks in vain beneath the armor. Gudo broke bones through the armor, spears slipped on the chicken breast structure of the breastplate, heavy swords wounded the horse's legs, and halberds pierced the riders.

Men and horses tumbled and fell, a chaotic scene of men and horses neighing. Armored soldiers fell backward, and warhorses reared up in pain, only to fall back down again with a neigh. Dothraki riders who fell to the ground were not even able to get up before being finished off by four or five greatswords and hand axes.

The heavily armored infantry, huddled together, disregarded trampling their fallen comrades, pushing and shoving forward, squeezing the Dothraki cavalry's battlefield space. Halberds lashed back and forth at the horses' necks and hooves. Some roaring warriors tried to break the stalemate, leaping from their horses to slam the heavily armored soldiers to the ground, stabbing the gaps in their armor with scimitars or daggers, only to be stabbed in the back by even more armored soldiers in an instant.

The corpses of the soldiers on the front lines piled up higher and higher, but the battle situation slowly began to tilt in favor of the heavily armored troops.

After a brief rest, bandaging their wounds, replenishing their lances, and feeding their horses small amounts of oats and salt, the heavily armored cavalry, numbering less than eight hundred, hurriedly rushed back to the battlefield to launch an assault on the Dothraki infantry lines. Their mission was to cut through the rear of the Dothraki cavalry lines engaged with the heavily armored infantry, continuing to press forward and leaving them no room to maneuver.

Having exhausted their arrows, the horse archers discarded their bows and quivers, drawing their scimitars. After making a U-turn in an arc on the flanks of the heavily armored infantry, they charged towards the Dothraki cavalry attempting to outflank them.

"Dragonfire!" Damon commanded, and Korakshyu opened its massive maw, spewing out blazing crimson dragonfire that instantly engulfed the Dothraki in front of it.

However, the Dothraki were too numerous. Like a tidal wave, they instantly closed the gap torn open by the dragonfire and charged relentlessly into the formation of the heavy cavalry.

The heavily armored cavalrymen held their lances level, calmly awaiting the fierce clash.

When the two forces intersected, the fallen riders, the splinters of wood from the exploding spear shafts, and the bursts of blood from the slashing swords brought the battle to a fever pitch.

Although the heavy cavalry were brave, they were outnumbered. The charging heavy cavalry were like rocks being battered by waves, constantly breaking apart and only able to stir up waves, but unable to stop the overwhelming waves of the Dothraki.

The horse archers, like two thin, black arms, struggled to prevent the Dothraki from flanking them.

Half-body chainmail and steel spiral helmets with hoods helped them protect themselves from fatal blows to vital areas, but heavily armored cavalrymen continued to have their arms severed by scimitars or be lanced off their horses. However, they also slew even more Dothraki unarmored cavalry.

"Dragon Flame!"

A column of eerie blue fire descended from the sky, slicing through the ranks of halberdiers and heavy swordsmen, cutting off the Dothraki cavalry that followed. Despite the poor visibility, Reed no longer cared about accidentally injuring his own cavalry. His army was thrown into chaos, having to deal with the defenders on the city walls while also fending off the Dothraki charge.

Seeing this, a glimmer of hope flashed in Hitzdala's eyes. "Unsullied! Attack! City defense forces! Attack! Supervisory teams, push forward! Charge! No retreat!"

Hitzdal mobilized all available garrison forces, launching a counterattack in an attempt to regain control of the city walls. Unsullied, city guards, archers, slave soldiers, and even slaves were mobilized by orders and successively thrown into the bloody meat grinder of the battle for the city walls.

The battle on the city wall once again reached a stalemate, with both sides exchanging blows and engaging in fierce hand-to-hand combat. Each clash was accompanied by bloodcurdling screams and splattering blood.

Sizidala stood atop a high-rise building within the city, directing the defending troops in a full-scale counterattack. His hoarse voice sounded exceptionally resolute amidst the clamor of the battlefield, each command carrying the weight of flowing blood.

Without the aerial suppression of the dragonfire, the Unsullied formed their most proficient tight formations, relentlessly and efficiently mowing down the chain-hammer soldiers fighting chaotically on the city walls with their spears. Their eyes held no fear, only indifference to life. The city's garrison and slave soldiers followed closely behind, filling the gaps in the Unsullied's breached defenses.

The Dothraki offensive was equally fierce. Riding their warhorses, wielding Arak scimitars, spears, great axes, or blunt weapons like maces, they relentlessly attacked the heavily armored lines. Each charge was accompanied by the deafening roar of hooves and screams, a truly terrifying sight.

The towering, roaring warrior seemed utterly indifferent to his own life and death, ramming his warhorse's chest directly into the tips of the halberdiers' spears. The horse fell, but the man immediately leaped up, brandishing his Arak scimitar and continuing to charge at the halberdiers behind him, disrupting the infantry's formation at all costs.

The two dragons, Night Fury and Clark, rose and fell continuously, splashing their dragonfire onto the dense cavalry.

However, the Dothraki were so numerous that they seemed endless. The dragonfire could only briefly carve a gap in the sea of ​​Dothraki cavalry before the gap was leveled and closed by the waves within a few breaths.

The battle on the city walls had entered a fierce phase. Blood stained the walls, and corpses piled up like mountains. The pungent, sticky blood flowed down the stone steps, even hindering the Meereen defenders from climbing the stairs at one point due to friction.

All three sides were frantically exchanging pieces, recklessly depleting each other's strength. The dragon, originally intended as the most formidable ultimate weapon, didn't play as significant a role as expected in the chaotic three-way battle.

Until a mournful horn rang out from the Dothraki ranks—a signal of Khal's death, a sound of courage breaking.

First, the riders on the periphery began to rein in their horses and retreat, and then large groups of cavalry lost their momentum and began to turn their horses around in a chaotic manner.

The Dothraki began to retreat.

The relatively sturdy heavy armor infantry, along with the sparser archers on both flanks, formed a crescent-shaped formation, blocking the Dothraki attack.

Behind them, the sparse heavy cavalry were like a tattered sieve that couldn't stop a school of fish, with Dothraki cavalry constantly fleeing from their side.

Some resigned warriors, seeing that all was lost, angrily drew their short swords, cut off their braids adorned with bells, threw them to the ground, dismounted, sat down, and surrendered.

The fighting on the battlefield outside Meereen finally came to a temporary halt. The smoke and dust slowly dissipated, revealing the corpses of men and horses lying on the ground.

Reed slowly circled down from the sky, his gaze sweeping over his own positions.

The heavy infantry had suffered nearly 30% casualties, and many formations were reduced to half their original strength. Their armor was stained with blood, their halberds were broken, and everyone was exhausted to the extreme.

But atop the city walls, the battle between the assault troops and the Unsullied phalanx continued. Both sides' banners fluttered simultaneously atop the walls.

Reed's gaze was fierce as he stared at the carnage on the city walls. A faint blue dragon breath pulsed between the Night Fury's teeth, and Reed's voice, carried by the wind, echoed throughout the army:

"Turn around and continue the siege! We'll raze Meereen to the ground today!"