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The White City, Viserysburg, was situated behind sturdy defensive walls, with a stretch of paved ground between the drawbridge and the moat.
That area had originally been used for docks, moorings, and various markets, but now it was completely empty.
Before the war arrived, these facilities had all been moved inside the city, leaving no vegetation or cover for the enemy to use as a stepping stone.
Those who had been lucky enough to escape onto the paved ground were immediately met with their deaths.
"Draw bows!" "Fire!" ordered Hugo.
Although the angle between the city walls and the ground below was too steep to guarantee good shooting positions, the abundance of longbowmen and the scarcity of survivors meant no one would escape alive.
Even more brutal scenes unfolded on the Upper Rhoyne River and the moat of Viserysburg.
The world became a sum of chaos; horses, men, and steel were all roaring.
The makeshift floating bridges that had been constructed were rapidly reduced to ashes, and the sailors and people crossing the river were all submerged within it.
The bright green flames were like dancing maidens; wherever their long skirts brushed, they brought fire and death.
The moat of Viserysburg, the channel of the Upper Rhoyne River beside Viserysburg, scorching green fire, red-hot steel, and burning straw mats and wooden planks composed a tableau of death.
This was the Gate of Hell.
Viserys watched the raging flames over the waterway; the kiss of the wildfire turned the swimming sailors and wandering Dothraki warriors into leaping torches.
wildfire is a close relative of the dragon's Dragonflame; this fire can make human flesh melt like grease, and the only prevention is a clever layering of sand.
Unfortunately, the opponents were completely unaware of this.
The flames of the wildfire were emerald, and the varying shades of green obscured the sky, beautiful and terrifying, like ancient Dragonflame.
Viserys watched the flames; the fire whipped up hot winds that lashed against people's faces.
"Still too little fire," Viserys thought. He only had a few hundred jars of wildfire, while King's Landing still held at least four or five thousand jars.
However, even so, the dancing flames brought endless screams; the tyroshi reinforcements and the dothraki completely collapsed, their vanguard becoming charred bones in the fire.
Either drowned or burned, some even suffering both.
The waterway was full of people, and the bright light of the explosions engulfed them all; they struggled desperately, but in the end, they could not escape the clutches of death.
Arrows followed, sparing no corner.
Viserys watched the enemy troops fleeing in a sorry state; this burst of wildfire was like the blooming of gorgeous, withered flowers, with slaughter blossoming time and again.
"The time is ripe; after dawn, the final battle will arrive," Viserys analyzed.
Viserys did not know if the enemy would dare to remain here as he had anticipated.
Viserys knew that Khal Drogo was a stubborn man; otherwise, he would not have ended up dying from an infected wound.
"Sunfyre!" Viserys called the name of his dragon, and he took flight on the dragon.
Those Screamers who were unfortunate enough to be left behind, and the mercenaries without horses, were struck by terrible misfortune.
These people had been terrified by the bloody battlefield, and the arrows they boldly shot did not hit the high-flying dragon at all, but instead further activated the dragon's rage.
The scorching Dragonflame brought a more terrifying sensation than wildfire; wherever it passed, there was only death and ash. Viserys slaughtered the rearguard until they lay in heaps before flying back to the high ramparts.
By dawn, if Khal Drogo was still unwilling to leave, he would only receive a fated exit.
The enemy troops retreated significantly toward the west, until they reached a position they deemed safe.
On the watchtower of the Golden Company camp, Mace and Griffin looked at the distant fire, the two of them like frozen gargoyles.
Although there were fires inside the camp, compared to the wildfire, they were like small candles in a burning house.
"The war is about to end," Mace said, although they were far away, they could still feel the high temperature.
"What a cruel heart," Griffin said silently, seeing those eerie, beautiful greens that represented victory and fire.
"Do you still stick to your opinion?" Mace asked.
Griffin nodded. "The battle, my battle, is also about to begin."
"I see that after the wildfire, it is the moment for the decisive battle, assuming that Khal is still reckless," Mace said. "The Golden Company will move toward Viserysburg, but I, I will still leave you a certain amount of time and manpower; time is precious."
...
At dawn, the gates of Viserysburg opened, and the drawbridge appeared over the river.
The hundreds of jars of wildfire Viserys had prepared had long since been exhausted, and the soldiers dredged the clogged river, piling the corpses of dead men and horses on the open ground to the side.
The wooden planks and straw mats had long since burned out.
Then the soldiers roared out; soldiers in bright armor, like a dense forest.
Everywhere one could see the black-bottomed red dragon of the House Targaryen, embroidered on the right chests of soldiers and knights, on the black triangular flags decorating lances and spears, and painted on the soldiers' shields.
Besides this, there were also symbols of other knights: the black stone symbol of the Donal family, and the seven-pointed star flag of Argos.
The tents of the King and the knights also stood on the open ground in front of Viserysburg, a ruthless insult to the enemy.
Beside the King's tent, the most spectacular banner fluttered: a pitch-black field embroidered with the three-headed red dragon of the House Targaryen, tall, proud, and fierce.
"Clack!" "Clack!" "Clack!" The Andals soldiers drew the seven-pointed star symbol on their faces, symbolizing the fanaticism of warriors.
The Andalos soldiers lined up the best shield wall; Bloodworm and Donal gripped their weapons tightly.
The shield formation was not the type of shield formation of the Unsullied, but a more knightly shield wall.
If one wanted to break a shield formation like the Unsullied's, the best way was to attack before they set up their formation, rather than waiting.
But now, due to the dragon and the defeat during the night, Khal Drogo could not hinder the movement of the enemy camp.
"Woo woo woo woo!" The sound of horns rang out along with the sound of hooves and human footsteps.
Most of the Golden Company's troops also arrived with great strides.
"His Majesty Viserys!" Myles Toyne said very respectfully.
"Well arrived, Sir Myles," Viserys said. "The main army will follow Count Donal in the attack; you also leave a small portion of men to guard the camp."
Viserys pointed to his own tent, a luxurious white snow-bear fur military tent, supported by black dragon bones, with two huge dragon horns on top, and the purple gemstones embedded in them ensured that the tent maintained its primal state.
"As you command," Myles bowed and said. It was too fast, too perfect, yet it gave him an unreal, illusory feeling.
"Do not let me down," Viserys said meaningfully to Myles.
Myles was still a bit confused and hadn't thought too much about it.
On the flat plains, Khal Drogo watched with his own eyes as the tyroshi army emerged from the castle, even setting up their own tents.
Battle or destruction—this was the most dangerous choice Khal Drogo faced.
Khal Drogo's face was livid; that tyroshi, the tyroshi living in stone houses.
To have his great tent brought out like this was a huge insult to him.
Because of the shortage of food and the loss of manpower, these soldiers were now in a dazed state.
"Drogo, we should leave here," Khal Jommo could not help but remind him. Yesterday, he watched those bravest and most violent men die in the fire like wild cats and dogs.
In terms of means and scheming, they were no match for this dragon-riding tyroshi.
"Pick up your weapon!" Khal Drogo suddenly brandished the arakh in his hand, pointing at Khal Jommo.
Khal Jommo's face darkened instantly; among the dothraki, this was a challenge that had to be faced.
He treated Drogo as an ally, but Drogo treated him as a urinal.
In the blink of an eye, the two began to draw their arakh. The blades were long, like razors.
The two Khals began a dance of death, circling each other, trading blows, the blades flowing.
"You are going to lead the tribe to destruction," Khal Jommo cursed angrily. "That damned language has bewitched you."
"I will not fail; I will kill him with my own hands." Khal Drogo's blade was shockingly fast; after all, his opponent was older than him, and Khal Jommo's movements were a beat slower.
Then Khal Drogo immediately swung in a smooth arc, the blade hacking into Khal Jommo's waist and abdomen, cutting his body open directly; the internal organs and intestines spilled out.
Khal Drogo's Bloodriders also struck out in a rage, clashing with Khal Jommo's Bloodriders, and the entire plain became incredibly bloody.
The tyroshi watched this scene, feeling their throats clogged, not daring to say another word.
"Under the blue sky, I swear, I will kill Viserys myself," Drogo said, gasping for breath. Everyone fell into a daze.
Immediately after, the Dothraki Screamers and the remaining tyroshi coalition forces set off with Khal Drogo's troops to meet this final decisive battle.
Rock and waves collided; the crescent-shaped shield wall stood as the front, like a blooming thorny rose, followed by the collision, the collision.
Argos led the heavy cavalry, and The Red Viper led the spearmen and eight hundred Dothraki Screamers on the flank, looking for a better opportunity at any time.
In the sky, the dragon flew; Viserys rode Sunfyre, and the high-flying dragon dived, spraying fire again and again.
The golden-red flames bombed wildly, like a prairie fire.
The newly arrived Golden Company provided Viserys with the final round of manpower support; they formed a crescent-shaped formation to confront the Dothraki.
"Dragonflame!" Viserys searched for Khal Drogo's movements; Khal Drogo's figure seemed to have just slipped away from his eyes.
The Dragonflame exploded in a rage; Khal Drogo fell off his warhorse in a sorry state, then brandished his long blade to counter the stabbing spears. He was agile and strong, but he was also struggling in the melee.
At that very moment, the angry Scorpion, spears, and arrows suddenly roared out together.
These ballista operators had no one else in their eyes, only the existence of Viserys.
"Whoosh!"
Both the Scorpion and the Dragonbone Bow had powerful kinetic energy; this kinetic energy was shocking.
In an instant, Viserys became the center of focused fire, and everyone saw a rain-like volley of arrows rushing toward Viserys together.
"Fly up!" Viserys roared.
Then Viserys's figure flew into the high sky, followed closely by a persistent arrow from the Dragonbone Bow.
The arrow struck Viserys until it was gradually dissolved by the flames.
Viserys had already flown into the high sky.
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