Black and red battle flags suddenly fluttered, along with the seven-pointed star symbol of Andals. These banners appearing together on the ridge represented a kind of oppressive might.
Arrows rained down like a storm from the ridges of Andals's small hills, usually tipped with white goose or bird feathers.
Speed, force, and distance.
This was a perfect archer's ambush, a tribute to the firepower suppression of Brynden, Duke Bloodraven, in years past.
The ambush and arrow tactics of the Battle of Red Hills achieved the same results as the Battle of Red Grass Field.
Yorn Greenvine, the commander of the Greenvine Family, was the first to be riddled with arrows, staring in disbelief as the shafts descended.
"My Lord," his guard tried to pull Yorn's body, but then a volley of arrows flew, directly pinning the guard in his forehead. He died even faster than Yorn.
"I was tricked!" This was Yorn's last thought before he died.
He had not expected that this young man, Viserys, barely a teenager, would be so cunning, to deceive him and lead him into a death trap.
This would not only be his failure but also the failure of the entire Greenvine Family. The Greenvine Family would become a thing of the past, a cornerstone for Viserys's Hegemony.
His horse fell to the ground, and Yorn's body slid onto the muddy earth, the gushing red blood making the land slick.
"Warriors!"
"Warriors!"
"andals!"
The longbowmen cheered, their curses growing louder, as they brought ample slaughter to the Tyroshi.
More and more dead men and horses appeared, staining the muddy ground of the small hill pass blood-red. Many warhorses had already begun to slip on the muddy ground.
"By the Triune God," the Tyroshi Mercenaries roared in disbelief, seeing andals seemingly everywhere on both hills, erupting with arrows.
Tyroshi slavers often plundered the Andals region before, completely disregarding these andal villagers. But today,
They would ultimately pay the price for underestimating their enemy.
"Run!" "Run!" The Tyroshi Mercenaries instantly became like startled beasts, beginning to search for an escape route. Mercenaries fought for gold, but they wouldn't be foolish enough to fight a losing battle. This war was already very disadvantageous; they could only admit defeat.
What was even more critical was that the weather in the southern Free Cities was hotter and more humid. As Tyroshi Mercenaries from a latitude similar to Dorne, they disliked wearing those stuffy iron cans.
And the defenses of chainmail, scale armor, and even lamellar armor were completely incapable of stopping arrows fired at close range. Plate armor was more difficult to penetrate, but it couldn't fully block an arrow storm, let alone these inferior armors.
After long-term training, the best archers could maintain an efficiency of six shots per minute. Even a rate of three or four shots was proving deadly now.
"Long live King Viserys!"
"Long live King Viserys!" Soldiers shouting battle cries appeared on the retreat path of the hills. They formed a shield-and-spear formation,
Behind the oak shield wall was a forest of long spears.
The shield formation began to press forward step by step. The Tyroshi and Greenvine Family soldiers could not see the faces behind the shield wall, only the dense spears thrusting forward.
"Hugo, watch our prisoners," Viserys commanded.
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Hugo Rex nodded.
"Shall we use warhorses, Your Majesty?" Argos asked.
"No," Viserys shook his head. "The ground is completely slippery. We can proceed directly with an infantry assault."
Viserys roused his spirits. The archers on the hills were the two wings, and the front was the shield wall and spear formation advancing.
Now only the final step remained: Viserys, with Argos and Ser Roland, would finish the job.
"Blasphemers will suffer divine retribution, Lord Aman. This is the death you sought." Viserys donned his helmet, then departed with Argos and Roland, leaving the Aman father and son, whose spirits had been utterly broken.
Aman Greenvine's face was a deathly gray. He had witnessed death descend. His son Yorn had fallen from his horse, then been trampled by hooves and soldiers.
And those Tyroshi 'heavenly soldiers' he once revered were now like chickens and ducks, shot into porcupines by andal longbows.
Perhaps Viserys was right. This was the strength of the andals. When he chose not to believe in andal civilization and instead fawned over the Free Cities, he had already made a grave mistake.
Regret! Fury! Disbelief! Many emotions intertwined.
This old man, who once dominated Andals, now found himself more like a recruit in front of Viserys.
"Sound the horn!"
"Woo-woo-woo." The andal war horns and drums continued to sound. From behind the forest, new attackers seemed to appear again. Viserys, with his furious Andal soldiers, emerged from behind the mountain path, blocking the invaders' last retreat.
The soldiers ran out of the pine forest, bringing the deathly chorus to a close.
Viserys's boots trod on the muddy ground soaked with blood, sending mud splattering.
Many Tyroshi threw away their prominent helmets, erupting in a final frenzy.
"Kill these reserves from the rear, then we'll break through," the andal Mercenaries quickly agreed. The ridges and the spear-and-shield formation in front were difficult to breach, so they could only deal with the assault reserves appearing from the rear.
"andals, why are you with Tyroshi Mercenaries?"
"Lay down your weapons, andals of the Greenvine Family!" Argos shouted, his voice booming like thunder. Many Greenvine Family cavalry, who were still preparing to counterattack, suddenly halted.
The Greenvine Family cavalry, who had long lost their fighting spirit, collapsed in despair. They either threw down their weapons and surrendered, or they joined the pursuit of the Tyroshi.
In the muddy hill pass, the victory of the war quickly transformed into a slaughter.
"Long live King Viserys!"
"Long live King Viserys!"
The Andal soldiers, like scythes, reaped lives from the earth. The Tyroshi fell like wheat.
"Die!" Viserys wielded his longsword, a shield in his other hand.
The longsword spun and swept across the chest and abdomen of a Tyroshi Mercenary. Red blood surged out furiously. The Tyroshi cursed Viserys loudly until he completely lost his life.
Viserys observed the enemy's weaknesses. He watched calmly, his movements reaching an astonishing level.
Sometimes it was just an advantage in speed and strength, plus the fact that these Tyroshi Mercenaries' armor was not heavy plate. As long as he found a gap, he could quickly kill the enemy.
Unlike breaking plate armor, which required blunt weapons to kill. On the current battlefield, Viserys brought the greeting of death with just a sword.
Viserys's movements were as agile as a cat. Sunlight glinted on his longsword, and the black and red banner of the Targaryen Family fluttered once more.
All the Tyroshi began to completely collapse, like something shattered by a heavy hammer.
Argos appeared even more terrifying. The tall and burly Argos struck the enemy formation like a heavy punch.
A Tyroshi swung his sword to resist, but was smashed to the ground by Argos's furious fist.
Then Argos's greatsword struck again, not a beheading, but the dull thud of the blade smashing into the enemy's body, crushing ribs and chest.
"Long live Targaryen!"
"Long live Targaryen!" The battlefield was filled with the cheers and shouts of warriors, as well as the sobs of the defeated and the gravely wounded.
All in all, it was a beautiful victory.
The Tyroshi Mercenaries were slaughtered, their bodies strewn across the field, as were the Greenvine Family cavalry who had been the first to fall.
"Butcher! You are a true butcher, Viserys! You will surely be abhorred by the Seven Gods!" Aman Greenvine, brought to the battlefield, looked at the bloody scene, with dead men and horses everywhere.
His Tyroshi 'heavenly soldiers,' on whom he had placed so much hope, had all fallen, becoming silent corpses. Aman's emotions had truly completely collapsed.
"I am a butcher, Lord Aman. Do you still not understand? You craved power, yet you could not bear the cost of losing the gamble." Viserys replied calmly.
"Look at your good deeds."
Viserys waved his hand. Argos pressed Aman's face, making him look at the faces of the dead. Many were loyal cavalry of the Greenvine Family, swept away on the battlefield.
"They all died for you, Aman, for your unrealistic ambition."
"Butcher, you truly are a butcher." Aman wailed loudly, slumping onto the bloody mud, completely devoid of his former high spirits.
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