In Pentos, at the seaside manse, the sounds of the clash between the dothraki and Viserys's men were so loud they had long since awakened the Pentos City Watch.
The Pentos City Watch, like quails, watched the bloody battle of the knights outside the city manse while trembling; why risk one's life for just a few gold dragons a month?
Warhorses neighed and swords clashed; the wind carried the salty scent of death, blood, and sweat.
The Pentos guards had never seen such a spectacle; they merely watched, terrified that the victor might vent their rage upon Pentos.
Illyrio and several other Magisters had also hurried up the city walls, watching the slaughter amidst the firelight of the night as two groups of cavalry charged each other.
The dothraki horsemen, as if brainless, crashed headlong into the heavy cavalry that stood like a mountain of iron.
Then, like seawater battering a rock, they slowly shattered.
"It's over, all over." Illyrio's face turned pale and then flushed; how could the invited guests start a bloody feud in the middle of the night?
No matter who won or lost, it would bring a series of troubles, and Pentos, as the host, would offend one side.
"The Khal is dead!" Viserys's thunderous shout rang out, followed by the response of all his knights.
"Khal Jilo is dead!"
"Long live King Viserys!"
The shouts outside the city echoed through the countryside.
"That fool Jilo." Hearing the shouts, Illyrio understood that Khal Jilo had no way out, having gone to provoke a bane like Viserys Targaryen for no reason.
Khal Jilo must have been blinded by greed to attempt a sneak attack, only to be met by Viserys's counterattack.
"Viserys understands Dothraki; he already knew of the horsemen's insults at the feast." Illyrio deduced that Viserys had already harbored the malicious intent to kill the Dothraki Khal.
Whether in terms of bravery, cunning, or ruthlessness, this young man seemed like a great fish plunging into the power struggles of Essos, stirring up countless storms.
"He is only fifteen..." Illyrio thought bitterly; the situation seemed to be getting more and more ridiculous.
Viserys was no little lamb, but a nightmare for the slave masters of the Slaver Cities and the dothraki, a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror, and far from the submissive and simple figure he and Varys had imagined.
"Khal Jilo had over a thousand Screamers near the manse and even struck first, yet he still lost." Magister Magister Odro on the city wall was also shocked.
In the eyes of the Pentos people, except for the Unsullied, mercenaries were no match for the horsemen; giving money was more effective than hiring mercenaries.
Yet Viserys's soldiers were fewer than the Khal's elite, and he still slew the Khal and won a head-on victory.
It seemed the strength of the King of Andalusia was far more terrifying than they had imagined.
"Magister, they are charging toward Jilo's dothraki base camp again," a Pentos guard said to Illyrio.
Illyrio picked up his myrish lens and indeed saw the military situation was like fire; Viserys's cavalry was howling as they charged toward Jilo's base camp.
Two battles in one night, incredibly fierce.
The heads of Khal Jilo and two Bloodriders were tied to Viserys's saddle; the thick scent of blood already permeated the air, and the battlefield had turned into a one-sided slaughter.
The corpses of Screamers were scattered messily across the battlefield—some unlucky souls trampled to death, some killed by arrows, some by short spears, and others slain during the cavalry clash.
Andal and rhoynar knights surrounded Viserys in a hearty victory.
The humiliations of the past could only be washed away with blood and fire.
And now, they were the victors.
"The Khal is dead! Those who surrender shall live!"
"Khal Jilo is dead! Surrender and kneel!" Viserys shouted on the battlefield. The Khal's Screamers had already become as weak as a trickle of water before the iron-clad heavy cavalry.
It was mainly a tactical error; they had abandoned their home-field advantage.
Moreover, Viserys's ranks included terrifying warriors like Viserys and Argos.
No one cared about the mortally wounded Screamers; for the Dothraki, if such warriors died, they died—it was all normal attrition.
Viserys scanned the battlefield; he would ignore the half-dead, but the living still had to charge for him.
Viserys had taken in several hundred trembling dothraki remnants in this wave; if he added them, Viserys would also have a numerical advantage against Jilo's Kos.
"Those who can still hold a weapon, will you bend the knee to me or challenge me?" Viserys reined in his horse and looked around the battlefield, asking the surrounded Dothraki warriors.
The sturdy horsemen who surrendered or could still move despite their wounds knelt around Viserys one after another, then cut off their braids and threw them into a small mound.
They were truly convinced, as the strongest Khal and his Bloodriders were all dead.
"true dragon khal!" a Screamer respectfully shouted Viserys's title.
"true dragon khal!"
"Silver Khal!" Then the Screamers shouted Viserys's name, representing their heartfelt submission.
The name was indeed quite fitting, for Viserys was indeed clad in a set of Mithril equipment—silver helm, silver armor, silver spear—and had silver-white hair.
Of course, even more eye-catching was the lifelike red fire-breathing dragon on his surcoat, which had tasted plenty of blood tonight.
The dothraki pursued power and revered the strong.
And Khal Jilo had been defeated; he was no longer worthy of being their Khal.
"What is your name?" Viserys asked the clever one who surrendered first, a sturdy dothraki Screamer with a scar on his face.
"Ringo, Khal!" the young scarred warrior answered.
"Very well, I want you to take charge of these men," Viserys arranged.
"I am willing to be the Khal's guard, to live and die together." Ringo cut his finger and smeared the blood on his face.
"I want you to mount up with me and crush Jilo's remnants. Are you willing, or not? You may also wait for me under the pillars." Viserys raised his whip, pointing at the surrendered Screamers.
The Screamers looked at Viserys respectfully, then picked up their weapons one after another.
"Follow the true dragon khal, kill!"
The Screamers raised their curved blades; they had already switched to the true dragon's khalasar.
Killing was all that mattered; these dothraki had a habit of loyalty, but not much of it.
The dothraki only loved blood and fire; once a Khal grew too old to ride or was killed in a challenge,
except for his Bloodriders, everyone else would immediately switch sides with a clear conscience.
So, a beast-like tribe also has a beast-like mindset; they still somewhat abide by the rules.
"Now, crush Jilo's main camp." Viserys reined his horse forward, and the cavalry followed closely behind him.
Viserys looked at these horsemen; only the warriors who survived were worthy of becoming his auxiliary knights. So now, offer your loyalty.
After all, the dothraki wore no armor; in the next wave of tonight's charge, many of them would die.
All the cavalry rushed from the manse toward Khal Jilo's tribal base camp like a whirlwind.
Unexpectedly, they ran right into Jilo's Ko, Tango, halfway there, and the decisive battle began abruptly.
The dothraki screamed in terror as they saw the head of their Khal and the heads of the Bloodriders.
Viserys saw the drunken Screamer leader, Tango; the silver belt at his waist proved his identity.
Not just him, but many others were drunk.
dothraki fermented mare's milk has a low alcohol content, but the strong spirits of Pentos had left these warriors drowsy.
"You killed the Khal?" Jilo's Ko, Tango, began to curse; he saw the Screamers beside them in horror—only if the Khal were dead would they switch sides.
In theory, Tango could break away from the Khal to become a new Khal, but not by facing another bloody battle.
But it was too late for everything; the scales of victory would not show mercy to this drunkard.
The two groups of cavalry were drawn together again like magnets, and so began a new slaughter.
And this time, there was the additional fratricide between dothraki warriors.
Viserys and Argos formed an arrowhead formation, charging straight at the enemy commander like an iron fist.
At this time, as dawn was breaking, the silver belt was very easy to identify, and to show courage, the dothraki leader was also charging at the front.
Metal clashed against metal, ringing out continuously like a storm, so fast that others couldn't see the moves clearly.
As a Ko, Tango's skills were naturally quite good.
However, he was no match for Viserys, not to mention he was riding drunk, leaving too many openings in his movements.
Viserys's silver spear struck Tango violently; Viserys hoisted him up like a large shrimp—the spear's flexibility, agility, and hardness were peerless.
Viserys used the momentum to fling the dothraki warrior off his horse, and the horse's hooves trampled him rapidly; Tango became another corpse on the ground.
"true dragon khal!" The Screamers let out a roar of victory; this new Khal could certainly fight, and so their morale surged.
"true dragon khal! Long live!" Ringo skillfully jumped off his horse and cut off Tango's head.
"Kill!"
"Kill!"
This victory came even more beautifully; besides the enemy being less intense than Khal Jilo's personal guard, the fact that they were drunk and bleary-eyed was also a major reason.
The bloody battle lasted until dawn in Pentos; the Pentos people watched in stunned silence as the guests they had invited slaughtered each other until the outskirts were covered in corpses.
In the morning, the black flag with the red dragon fluttered; the cavalry, having fought all night, stood in ranks like a dense forest.
The dark Andal heavy cavalry and the graceful rhoynar light cavalry were there; many soldiers' armor was filled with various dents, but their faces were lit with the joy of victory.
Bloody aura and victory had forged this army, making them look like vengeful demons.
The dothraki corpses were gathered simply; if hot oil were poured over them, the fire would start much faster.
Viserys sat on a folding camp chair, drinking a glass of sugar-free lemonade.
After fighting for a whole night, he finally had this moment of leisure.
Even for an iron-clad body, this way of fighting was very exhausting.
["Fate Reverser" Vaerys Targaryen has completed the Just Judgment of multiple dothraki "villains" in war. Reward: One base attribute increase. Strength increased →, Agility increased →, Fortitude →]
Viserys looked at the attribute stacking with satisfaction; this Dothraki Khal and his Bloodriders were indeed great supplements, with higher attributes than horse bandits.
If he were to kill Khal Drogo, he couldn't even imagine the gains.
After all, they were the elite selected from thousands or tens of thousands of warriors; every Khal or Bloodrider was covered in blood.
Not far behind him were the severed braids, proof of the Dothraki Screamers' submission; these Screamers were now thoroughly cowed.
The Screamers with cut hair followed at the rear of the column, extremely respectful, as if they had learned silence for the first time in their lives.
Excluding those who died, were mortally wounded, or saw the situation was bad and fled across the river, Viserys had also taken in seven or eight hundred surrendered warriors, equivalent to the size of a thousand-man unit.
Meanwhile, his casualties were much fewer; it was a hearty victory.
Besides courage and strategy, it was also because the soldiers had been holding back their anger.
What dothraki elite? He specifically targeted the elite.
"Ringo!" Viserys commanded his newly joined Screamer. "Show these heads to the Pentos people. Say there were thieves last night, and I cleared them out for them."
"As you command, true dragon khal," Ringo answered humbly.
Screamer Ringo, with several subordinates, came roaring under the walls of Pentos to display the heads of Khal Jilo and the others.
The gates of Pentos opened again shortly after, and only Magister Illyrio came out as a peacemaker.
The other Magisters were too scared to leave their homes, fearing they might encounter a bane like Viserys.
They hadn't expected such a handsome young Dragon King to be so cold and ruthless in battle, a bloodthirsty monster.
One could only say Khal Jilo had miscalculated.
A thick scent of blood hung in the air; the warriors looked at Illyrio like beasts ready to devour someone at any moment.
Life and death were just that blunt. Illyrio still had to endure.
"I apologize to you; this was our oversight."
Magister Illyrio gave a quiet order, and four burly slaves immediately carried a cedar chest decorated with bronze forward at a quick pace.
Upon opening it, Viserys found it filled with the finest velvets and brocades produced by the Free Cities—and atop them lay three massive eggs.
"These are dragon eggs from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai," Magister Illyrio said. "They have turned to fossil over thousands of years, yet they remain beautiful and striking."
"dragon eggs... my fat friend, you certainly know how to hide things..." Viserys did not stand up, but asked directly.
For a moment, Illyrio felt as if he saw the stars turning; the fire in those purple eyes seemed to awaken a true dragon.
"I treat you as a true dragon, a real dragon. I apologize for my lack of sincerity." Illyrio apologized immediately; having come this far, his life was what mattered most.
A bloodthirsty warrior like Viserys was someone who would cut a person down over a single disagreement.
"Those who follow my cause are good men and friends." Viserys stood up and looked at the dragon eggs in the chest. "I thank you, Magister Illyrio. Do not disappoint me."
"Yes, yes, yes," Illyrio said after wiping a bead of sweat. "The Magisters have prepared even better gifts for you; that manse is now a bit too cramped."
Viserys's magnificent performance had caused his utility value to soar once again.
The goodwill of the Pentos people toward him had risen to another level.