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At the Tyroshi reinforcement camp, two catapults stood forty feet high, looming on the outskirts of the military tents as the most conspicuous structures in the Tyroshi Alliance Army camp.
The Tyroshi Alliance Army had transported a large amount of timber from the south, enough to arm three catapults, but due to the urgency of time, only two were ultimately constructed.
The Tyroshi reinforcements believed the Andalos were merely hiding in a tortoise shell formation and would be no match in a frontal assault.
Therefore, they felt safe placing the catapults on the outskirts, mainly because the stench of the corpses was too foul.
The mercenaries carefully moved some rotting corpses that emitted a sky-piercing stench.
This season was summer, and the dead decomposed very easily.
"Our two fine bitches," Bloodbeard declared proudly.
Bloodbeard was a loud-mouthed, savage brute of a man, tall in stature, with a large beard, fiery red whiskers, long braids, and very broad shoulders.
He was cruel and murderous by nature, greedy for glory and treasure, and lustful, just like most mercenary leaders.
The catapults were named Dragon Slayer and Kiss of the Three-Headed God.
"Is this truly necessary? If it really brings a plague, how will the slaves of Andas be sold?" asked the Tyroshi Commander-in-Chief, who was the brother of the green-bearded Archon of Tyrosh, though he was the commander of this army in name.
However, Bloodbeard was more experienced, and his Company of the Cat was more numerous. Thus, as the commander of the allied forces, the Tyroshi man valued Bloodbeard's opinion greatly.
"There is no other way, Commander," Bloodbeard explained. "The city of Andas is very sturdy; you saw how the Dothraki suffered heavy losses beneath its walls. If we want victory, we need to force the Andalos out of the city."
"You are right, but what if it truly triggers the bloody flux?"
The bloody flux had been the bane of armies since the Dawn Age; everyone knew that when the bloody flux spread silently through the ranks, it would ultimately bring about the destruction of the entire army.
"It won't," Bloodbeard shook his head. "It's only been a few days, and everything in the White City is normal. It's not yet time for the bloody flux to run rampant; the corpses are just a bit smelly. Let us enjoy the sweetness of victory—countless gold and women. Destroy the hope of Andas."
"Good, let's do it then," the Tyroshi man nodded with satisfaction.
"Then I can witness the moment of glory with my own eyes."
"I believe you will, my lord," Bloodbeard replied.
"Good, then I will personally lead a group to oversee the immediate operation of the catapults," the Tyroshi Commander-in-Chief said; he was actually somewhat afraid to step onto the battlefield.
Perhaps hiding behind the catapults was actually safer.
"As you wish," Bloodbeard replied with a bow. "I need to arrange other matters and won't be able to accompany you; I must organize the Scorpions and ballistae."
Dragon Slayer and Kiss of the Three-Headed God began to operate with a rumble; once they were in motion, they would bring new terror to Viserysburg.
The brother of the Archon of Tyrosh seemed to see the image of victory in sight, the final settlement.
Atop the walls of Viserysburg, Viserys looked at those two giant catapults. In terms of destructive power, they were lacking, but they were most suitable for launching corpses during a siege.
"Your Majesty, they might be launching corpses..." Hakeem said with a serious expression.
The siege catapults were out on the wilderness outside the city, while the White City's catapults used their height to form fire suppression; the Tyroshi catapults were at a disadvantage.
A more insidious method would be this.
"It was truly a mistake; we should have raided last night to wipe out the Tyroshi first," Hakeem said with some regret. "The bloody flux and these corpses are just too disgusting."
This strategic window was lost, but considering the cavalry advantage, it might not have been a good idea to charge head-on against the Dothraki earlier.
The most troublesome point at hand was solving the problem of the Tyroshi catapults.
"No matter," Viserys waved his hand.
Hakeem was also surprised, wondering where this king's confidence came from; the lethality of a plague and the pollution from corpses were no small matter.
"Get the catapults moving, start with a wave of suppression," Viserys ordered.
The sound of rumbling machinery echoed as the catapults of Viserysburg also roared, launching their first round.
"It seems there is no other choice," Viserys's hand rested on the sword belt at his waist.
Plans cannot keep up with changes. Originally, Sunfire's appearance was prepared for Drogo, a grand debut.
But now, Sunfire needed to make an early appearance.
Viserys's fingers tapped on his sword belt as those rotting corpses began to fly through the distant sky.
"I will deal with them," Viserys said.
"How will you deal with it?" Hakeem was somewhat suspicious.
But a few moments later, he no longer doubted Viserys's decision.
A thunderous sound echoed in the sky—the sound of a dragon's leathery wings flapping.
The dragon flew from atop the hills to where Viserys was located, its golden hue blotting out the sun.
Sunfire was covered in golden scales, but his eyes, horns, spinal plates, and wing membranes were all a beautiful, dazzling fiery red.
The breath of Hakeem and his archers momentarily stopped; they had never expected such a fresh miracle here.
Hakeem suddenly understood; he realized the root of Viserys's confidence was not just the Andal army or his own strength.
There was also the ultimate trump card: Viserys had a dragon that could soar over the battlefield.
Only, how was this dragon obtained?
The archers of the Golden Company were all filled with doubt.
Viserys flipped himself up. "A magnificent dance is about to begin; wait just a moment."
"Roar!" Sunfire let out a roar as the dragon's silhouette tore through the clouds.
Boom!
Searing golden-red Dragonflame swept out, and the two corpses flying in mid-air were instantly incinerated into ash.
Flying up, flying up, continuing to soar high.
Viserys took Sunfire into the high heavens; Viserys could also feel Sunfire's excitement, the desire for high flight and slaughter.
A short distance from the catapults, the Tyroshi Commander-in-Chief had set up a log table with plenty of fine food and the best Tyroshi brandy.
With wine and meat, and the ability to watch this dragon-slaying battle, it was truly a good thing.
"What is that?" The Tyroshi Commander-in-Chief raised his wine cup, looking at the flowing gold in the sky as the corpses that were supposed to splash into Viserysburg were consumed by living fire.
"It flies, it breathes fire. It's a dragon, my lord."
"Nonsense, how is that possible?" the Tyroshi Commander-in-Chief said displeased.
His subordinate had a mournful face; flying high and circling, and able to breathe fire—what else could it be but a dragon.
The figures of Viserys and Sunfire suddenly emerged from behind the clouds, soaring high, then rapidly folding their wings to dive.
Viserys smelled it—the scent of blood and fire.
Fire, bright and searing golden-red fireballs began to appear.
"Dragonflame!" Viserys commanded, and surging Dragonflame descended from the sky, directly engulfing the forty-foot-tall giant catapult.
The flames swirled and shifted; the catapult, originally made of massive timber, made a sound of total destruction, and the mercenaries who couldn't dodge became wraiths in the fire.
"My hair, my hair is on fire!"
"My eyes!"
The soldiers let out tragic and shrill wails; with the searing sensation of molten iron, their hair burst into flames.
The first one, then the second one.
"A dragon! It's a dragon!"
"Fuck the Archon! Why didn't he tell us the enemy had a dragon?"