Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

The iron hooves of five thousand cavalrymen shattered the silence of the wilderness, with shouts of men and neighing of horses, and billowing dust.

This is the Giskali allied forces' surprise attack cavalry, which set out from Yunkai and were heading straight for the grain convoy traveling from Kaiser Pass to Meereen.

The banners fluttering in the wind were the most striking feature of this allied army. Most prominent were the two harpy banners: one from Astapor, with a chain gripped beneath the harpy's claws; the other belonged to Yunkai, but clutched a whip and an iron collar twisted like a venomous snake in its claws.

Surrounding the two harpy banners were the flags of other mercenary groups, a chaotic yet flamboyant display.

On the yellow banner with red patterns, a twisted broken sword cleaves the wind diagonally; that is the mark of the Second Sons, who are composed of the second sons of various noble families in Westeros who venture out to make their way in the world.

On the drab flag, a black cat with its back arched and claws digging into the flagpole is a symbol of the Cat Clan. Legend has it that wherever this flag goes, bloodshed will follow.

A straight spear pierced the sky, its tip gleaming colder than a blade. That was the banner of the Spear Regiment, simple yet carrying an indomitable killing intent, just like the Spear Lady they worshipped.

There was also a tattered cloth, torn to shreds by the wind, its original color indistinguishable, with only a wisp of fluttering silk thread embroidered at the corner, a tuft of windblown fabric.

A black flag with a crooked crow sewn on it with coarse hemp thread reads "Ravenous Crow Gang".

The allied cavalry formation was a rather uneven one.

The knights of the Second Sons' Regiment sat atop their tall, well-bred steeds, each with long, strong limbs and meticulously braided tails. Some wore leather vests or cloth cloaks. The knights were also heavily armored; officers typically wore steel plate armor, the plates polished smooth as a mirror, with neck guards tightly covering their throats. The longswords hanging at their waists and the lances beside their saddles were all exquisitely forged weapons. Their formation was impeccably disciplined; even at full gallop, their ranks showed no sign of weakness, exuding the chilling aura of seasoned warriors.

The cavalry of the Long Spear Regiment were slightly inferior, their mounts mostly being variegated horses from the Dothraki steppe. Although not as magnificent as the Second Son Regiment, they were superior in endurance. They wore tanned leather armor, with several rows of iron rivets securing the armor plates. Their ten-foot-long spears were painted black, with only the tips gleaming coldly. The soldiers had dark faces and bulging muscles on their arms, clearly skilled spear wielders. The dense array of spear tips pointed diagonally to the sky, forming a formidable forest of spears.

In stark contrast are the cavalry of the Cat Band, the Wind Band, and the Crow Band.

The Cat Clan's cavalry rode emaciated, inferior horses, their coats tangled, ribs clearly visible, and many bearing old wounds. The riders' equipment was a mixed bag; some wore tattered chainmail, riddled with rusted holes that revealed their dark skin beneath; others had no armor at all, only a layer of coarse linen wrapped around their chests. Their weapons were also mostly rusted or chipped.

The Windbringer's cavalry were more like a bunch of makeshift mounted infantry. Their mounts were a mix of dwarf horses, everyone looked hungry but their eyes gleamed with greed, and their weapons were a motley crew: Unsullied spears, Dothraki arak scimitars, Braavos swift swords—a serious eclectic mix.

The Raven Legion was the most impoverished. Under their banner, many cavalrymen didn't even have decent mounts. Many rode mules or donkeys, clutching worn-out spears, their clothes patched upon patched, revealing their emaciated chests when the wind blew.

Vepras Graztanler was the commander of this cavalry, at least nominally. His mount was a jet-black steed, clad in gold-plated horse armor, while he himself wore a magnificent bronze breastplate engraved with reliefs of harpies.

At this moment, his fingertips unconsciously traced the patterns on his breastplate. The continuous warning smoke made his unease grow like wild grass. The Graztan family was one of the most prominent benevolent families in Astapo, but they were not known for their military prowess. After joining the army, he had fought mainly in suppressing slave rebellions. His fame mainly relied on the considerable number of Unsullied men in his family. Yet, he was the most "experienced" commander in the allied forces. Those bloated benevolent lords had placed command of five thousand cavalrymen in his hands. If he showed any weakness, the allied forces would risk disintegrating in an instant.

Vepras's gaze swept over the burned outposts along the way. Wooden towers were charred, tattered flags lay in pools of blood, and a few survivors huddled in corners, emitting faint groans. The smoke of battle had never ceased along the way, and the warning horns seemed to still echo in his ears.

"My Lord?" A steady voice sounded from behind.

Vepras turned around and saw Meryl Weir, the leader of the Second Sons. He was dressed in silver-grey Dornish-style scale armor, with a stern face and sharp, eagle-like eyes.

Merylerma raced alongside Vepras, seemingly sensing his nervousness, a faint smile playing on his lips. He knew Vepras's "experience" wouldn't work on the real battlefield. Merylerma himself was the second son of a collateral branch of the Dornish Vail family, with no right to the inheritance. He was out here venturing out for the hefty bounties promised by the slave owners. Of course, there was also the personal grudge hidden deep in his heart.

Two years ago, he and Reid were both mercenaries who lived on the edge, making money off the dead. Now, Reid had become the master of Meereen, a hero who liberated slaves, which fueled Merry's jealousy, as he was still chasing after the Golden Dragon. Not to mention, the Uller family knight that Damon and Reid had killed was his wife's brother; this debt had to be settled.

"The warning and resistance from the small garrison was to be expected. There are many outposts along the road to Kaisai Pass, so it's perfectly normal for them to spot us." Merri's voice was calm and composed, without the slightest hint of emotion.

"Meereen must have already received the news. Can we still achieve our goal?" Vepras's voice carried a hint of anxiety. If the surprise attack failed, the Graztan family's reputation would be in jeopardy.

Merri raised his hand and patted the neck of his steed, its muscles bulging as it let out a loud neigh. If he could seize the caravan, collect the bounty, and incidentally cause some trouble for Reid, the mission would be worthwhile. "We are cavalry, swift and agile as the wind. This vast plain is our battlefield. If they want to ambush us, they'll have to bury their army underground. If things go wrong, we can turn tail and run—who can catch us?"

Vepras paused for a moment, gazing into the distance. "I'm not afraid of the garrison, I'm afraid of that thing." His voice lowered. The Giskari people's greed for dragons was ingrained in their bones, and they were very familiar with the legends of dragons. But those records about dragon flames burning cities only existed in old piles of paper. He had heard them since childhood, but never felt them so vividly now.

Merri's expression hardened slightly. He knew what Vepras was referring to: Reid's black dragon. The mercenary group had its own sources of information; the ferocity of the dragon's flames was well-known in the Battle of Meereen and the Battle of the Narrow Sea. He was also apprehensive, but the bounty and his personal grudge burned like two fires, preventing him from backing down.

"Dragons are indeed troublesome, but not insurmountable. We brought thirty scorpion crossbows. Victory is uncertain, but they can at least effectively cover our retreat. Like I said, we are cavalry!"

"Do you know anything about the Black Dragon King?" Vepras pressed, desperately needing a positive answer to bolster his faltering confidence.

A complex smile tugged at the corners of Merri's lips. He knew better than anyone how formidable Reid's army was. But he couldn't reveal it; he had to keep Viplass and the allied forces dangling in suspense in order to carry out his plans.

"I've known Reid since my mercenary days. His army is known for its superior equipment and strict discipline. Back in the Free Cities, he fought centaurs and bandits, so he's quite experienced. In a direct confrontation, our chances of winning are less than 30%, but..." Merri paused, then changed the subject, a hint of greed in his voice: "We're not here for a hard battle; we're launching a surprise attack. The supply convoys are our target. If we can burn Meereen's critically needed supplies before Reid's main force arrives, and then retreat unscathed, that will be a major victory. Our blockade of Meereen is already showing initial results. Just add a little more fire, and those starving slaves will overwhelm his rule with their madness of hunger."

Vepras's brow gradually relaxed. Merri's words acted like a reassurance, calming the restlessness in his heart somewhat. He took a deep breath, forcing himself not to think about those bad possibilities. All he needed to do was find the grain convoy and burn it—simple and safe.

Just as the two were talking, the vanguard of the allied forces had already charged into a pasture. Screams and the neighing of horses suddenly rang out.

The Cat Clan's cavalrymen chuckled as they dragged several women into the thatched hut. The women's cries were shrill and piercing, the men lay in pools of blood, the cattle and sheep in the pasture were slaughtered on the spot, the barns were set ablaze, thick smoke billowed, and flames shot into the sky.

"Bloodbeard! What are you doing?" a furious shout rang out.

Bloodbeard, the leader of the Cat Clan, a burly man with a face full of scars and dried blood on his chin, stood beside the corpse of a villager, holding a blood-dripping machete. Hearing the shout, he turned around and saw Robert Tangdrian, the vice-leader of the Second Sons Clan.

Robert, his face ashen, pointed at the soldiers committing the violence, his anger barely contained: "These are unarmed civilians! You are indiscriminately killing innocent people; this is a crime!"

Bloodbeard grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth: "Criminal? Are you out of your mind? We're cavalry. To maintain mobility, we can't carry too much food. We resupply on the spot—that's only natural! Besides, these are all slaves who betrayed their masters. Those generous and benevolent lords will be happy to give me a reward. Faced with glittering gold coins, they deserve to die!"

"This is a massacre! This is an atrocity!"

Bloodbeard sneered, "In Slave Bay, might makes right. If you don't like it, draw your sword and come at me. If you don't have the guts, mind your own business!"

"You! Fine! Let's see whose fist is bigger!" Robert drew his sword, the blade pointing directly at Bloodbeard.

"Enough!" Merri's voice rang out coldly. He cursed Robert's naivety in his heart, but he had no choice but to spur his horse to the middle of the two. He glanced at Robert and shook his head slightly.

The allied forces were a motley crew, and getting them to follow the rules was harder than climbing to heaven. Besides, the Cat Clan's atrocities were part of the plan: to deplete the enemy's resources, intimidate resistance forces along the way, and allow the soldiers to vent their anger, all of which were beneficial to their side.

Robert understood the implication in Merlin's eyes: turn a blind eye.

Robert's chest heaved violently as he gritted his teeth and sneered, "Relying on their numbers to bully the weak, they truly live up to their name, the Cat Clan—a bunch of rats who only know how to bite from the shadows!"

"What did you say?" the blood-bearded man roared in fury, brandishing his machete as if to strike. "Kid, I'll chop you up today!"

"Stop it, all of you!" Vepras roared. These idiots were fighting amongst themselves at this critical moment!

"Get out of the way! This is a time for military operations, not internal strife! Anyone who messes things up can forget about getting their commission!"

Bloodbeard reluctantly put down his machete and glared fiercely at Robert.

Lauber spat, sheathed his sword, and his face remained grim.

Vipras looked at the chaotic scene before him with a grim expression, but he also knew very well that the cohesion of the allied forces was only based on the desire for gold, silver and plunder, and that accepting the compromise was already a favor.

Vepras pondered for a moment, then gave orders to Bloodbeard and Merry: "Adjust formation! The Second Sons will be the vanguard, advancing at full speed towards Kaiser Pass! The Cats will cover the rear, responsible for guarding the rear, and must not engage in any further conflict! Anyone who disobeys will be fined!"

Talking about money really hits the mercenaries where it hurts, and the mercenaries quickly sprang into action.

The cavalry of the Second Son Regiment raised their lances, spurred their horses, and galloped forward. Their silver scale armor gleamed coldly in the setting sun, like a silver torrent, rushing towards the Kaikai Pass and the massive grain convoy mentioned in the intelligence.

The soldiers of the Cat Clan reluctantly ceased their rampage, halting in place amidst Bloodbeard's curses, awaiting to cover the retreat of the allied forces. Meanwhile, the cavalry of the Wind Crow Clan and the Raven Clan seized the opportunity to loot the ranch's valuables, creating utter chaos.

Standing on high ground, gazing at the vast allied army, Vepuleslema felt a renewed unease. He had a feeling that behind this seemingly foolproof surprise attack, an unseen eye was calmly watching them.