The moment the golden-red blood hit the ground, the soldiers seemed to hear countless voices.
The cries of women and children.
The wild laughter of Dothraki riders.
The collapse of burning homes.
The roar of spreading flames.
At the same time, it became obvious that Viserys was still weaker than the centaur-transformed Drogo in raw strength.
Drogo twisted the massive beam and slammed it forward.
Viserys was sent flying backward.
Then Drogo swept the beam sideways, sending the surrounding guards crashing through the air.
That single strike killed dozens more soldiers. Yet the royal guards still refused to retreat.
Because Viserys himself still stood before them.
He picked up a spear and faced Drogo directly, while secretly granting every remaining guard ten Roaring Warrior essences.
Drogo noticed nothing.
When he charged again with the massive beam, the guards actually managed to stop him together.
"That's impossible!"
Drogo roared in shock.
Fear appeared in his square-shaped pupils.
Then confusion followed.
"This... how is this power so similar to mine?!"
He stared at Viserys, realizing instinctively that this had to be his doing.
Drogo backed away, then raised his front hooves high before slamming them down.
His hair and beard flared wildly as he let out a furious roar toward the guards.
Threads of crimson smoke drifted out from the soldiers' bodies. In an instant, the power they had just received melted away like snow.
Viserys immediately received feedback.
He had gained divine power.
Viserys blinked.
He did not fully understand what had happened, but he could guess what Drogo was trying to do.
'Fine. I've got plenty of essence to spare.'
Looking at the nearly thirty thousand essences he still possessed, Viserys remained completely calm.
He immediately redistributed another ten [Roaring Warrior] essences to every soldier.
When Drogo charged again, the guards—though fewer in number—still forced him back.
"That's impossible!"
Drogo roared again.
And once more, Viserys absorbed even more divine power.
'So it's being refined?'
Viserys still had no idea what divine power was actually useful for. But after several repetitions, Drogo's condition visibly worsened.
The muscles on his horse legs began to shrink. His hair and beard became rough and brittle.
The human half of his body rapidly aged.
Then he suddenly turned to look toward the battlefield below Sacred Mother Mountain.
More specifically, toward the shores of the Womb Lake.
At that moment, Connington had already taken near-total control of the battlefield.
Many Dothraki had begun surrendering.
After all, what did it matter if Drogo could resurrect?
He had already fled.
All across the battlefield, Dothraki riders knelt in surrender.
Their weapons were confiscated, their hands bound with rope.
This battle alone had cost them at least thirty thousand dead, with another thirty thousand captured.
Perhaps around ten thousand had escaped, but as long as Drogo died, they would never again become a threat.
"My lord, I'll take some men up the mountain."
Gerold asked Connington for permission.
"Go. But be careful."
After receiving approval, Gerold departed with a thousand longbowmen and a thousand Dragonriders toward Sacred Mother Mountain.
But just then, chaos suddenly erupted among the prisoners.
The captured Dothraki attacked their guards with crazed expressions.
"Old man! What are you doing?!"
A young Dothraki stared in horror as fellow prisoners suddenly began fighting back.
Without weapons, they used their teeth.
But old teeth could not bite through steel.
The Targaryen soldiers knocked them down, yet they continued attacking again and again.
The younger Dothraki were completely stunned.
If you wanted to resist, why didn't you do it earlier?
Why wait until your hands are tied and your weapons taken away?!
While overseeing the battlefield cleanup, Connington noticed the disturbance among the prisoners.
"What's happening?"
"My lord, it appears to be a prisoner riot."
"A prisoner riot?"
Connington had seen prisoner uprisings before. But who rebelled immediately after being captured?
That was pure madness.
"Kill all who resist!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Yet even Connington soon became confused.
This was not a riot at all.
They were trying to die.
Of the more than thirty thousand prisoners, over half were dead within less than half an hour of suppression.
Meanwhile, atop Sacred Mother Mountain—
Viserys suddenly received an enormous flood of essence.
Drogo—or rather, Bargo—looked at his own hands in alarm.
"What's happening?!"
His divine power could barely maintain the centaur form now.
He had ordered the blessed Dothraki prisoners to attack because he intended to reclaim the divine power he had invested in them.
But now the people were dying, while the divine power was nowhere to be found.
Without replenishment, Bargo finally panicked.
Viserys immediately sensed his weakness.
"Today, we slay a god!"
He raised his Valyrian steel sword and shouted toward the guards beside him.
"Kill this false god!"
The guards could feel it too.
The monster before them was weakening. Like a wounded beast growing exhausted.
Viserys personally kept Drogo occupied from the front while the guards continuously attacked from both sides.
At first, the centaur-like monster could still send soldiers flying with savage kicks.
But gradually, his counterattacks weakened. Meanwhile, the wounds on his body grew deeper and more numerous.
Golden-red blood sprayed everywhere.
His lower body became thinner and thinner.
The muscles on his horse legs disappeared completely, leaving only swollen, twisted joints like tree knots.
His upper body hunched over.
His hair turned completely white.
"No! No! Your Majesty, save me! Save me!"
Like a cornered beast, Drogo suddenly cried out toward the sky.
At that moment, Viserys realized the divine power accumulated within him could finally be used.
He absorbed all of it at once.
Deep violet light burst from his eyes.
Then he leapt high into the air and brought his sword down in a single strike.
Drogo's head flew free.
The sounds of battle suddenly vanished.
The frosted-glass dome above them shattered instantly.
The royal guards who witnessed Viserys slay a god erupted into thunderous cheers.
Viserys received something new.
[The Horse God's Divine Essence]
Inside his stored essences appeared a crystal-like statue of a warhorse. But the rear half was twisted and incomplete.
Clearly, this was not a complete divinity.
Then, suddenly, Viserys heard Drogo's voice echo in rage.
"My divinity! My throne! Why, Viserys?! I will never let you go!"
As long as someone possessing divinity still had even a single believer, they could never truly die.
Viserys had not completely killed the Horse God. But there was no doubt his power had suffered catastrophic damage.
At this point, the old turtle could probably devour him like food.
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