Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

However, although he had some doubts, he couldn't find the source of the doubts.

He could only follow behind Dzeko Kao as they walked out.

Chapter 268 Success or failure hinges on this moment

The Targaryen army assembled outside the camp, banners with three-headed fire dragons fluttering in the wind. The soldiers stood in neat formation, their helmets and armor gleaming, shouting loud slogans.

"drink!"

"drink!"

Meanwhile, the Dothraki people in the distance gradually emerged from their simple camps.

The Dothraki camps were extremely rudimentary, lacking even wooden walls, consisting only of animal skin tents and pits dug in the ground for fire. Many Dothraki couldn't even afford tents, sleeping on straw mats on the ground.

Sleeping like this is fine during the long summer months, but now that winter has arrived, although it's not that cold here in Gedoho, the temperature has still dropped significantly.

This place is at a higher latitude than the warmer Dothraki Sea.

Therefore, ordinary Dothraki people did not have it so easy. Although they were not frozen to death, many of them caught colds and got sick. They could only move around more every day and wear more clothes in the hope of keeping warm.

However, to everyone's surprise, the Targaryen army, which had been holed up in the castle, suddenly issued a challenge and lined up outside the city, looking ready to fight to the death.

Many Dothraki who had received Khal's orders and were gathering were somewhat bewildered.

"Are these lambs out of their minds?"

That's the only way they can understand it.

The Dothraki army then assembled. For this barbaric race, their tactics were to burn, kill, and plunder, since few armies could withstand the Dothraki attack in open field warfare.

Often, the enemy's morale would collapse after just one charge, the soldiers would flee in disarray, and then the Dothraki would ruthlessly harvest their lives like cutting leeks.

"Humph."

"These audacious lambs."

The tall and imposing Dzekoka stood at the very front, riding a magnificent horse.

He appeared completely unfazed by the cold, his upper body bare and covered in dark tattoos, his deep eyes gazing at the Targaryen army arrayed outside the city in the distance.

Zhekokao, being able to become the leader, was certainly not a fool. He knew that the other party was trying to lure him into an attack, perhaps with some ulterior motive. However, Zhekokao had full confidence in his people.

He would raid Kohor every four or five years. Although there had been successful cases of fighting the Dothraki in Kohor, that was more than four hundred years ago. Now, whenever Zhekokao's army arrived in Kohor, they would obediently offer up gold.

He knew they were up to something, but Zhekokao didn't care. He was confident his khalasar would crush them!

Then, Dzeko Kao, seated on his warhorse, drew his gilded scimitar and gave the order to charge.

"Oh harat!"

next second.

The Dothraki, an endless expanse of land, roared and surged towards the distant Targaryen army.

"Ohhh!"

Surrounded by a distant army formation, the legion commander, clad in bright silver armor, held the reins in one hand, his posture on horseback somewhat odd.

He wore a metal mask on his face, and his entire body was covered in steel, with only a tiny gap between the mask and his neck revealing his skin.

It was a horrifying sight; his skin was charred and even rotting, like a vengeful ghost emerging from a sea of ​​fire, yet his eyes remained bright and piercing.

Bessie Joyce gazed at the menacing Dothraki in the distance, then raised her hand, sounding somewhat weak, but her words were full of determination.

"Raise your shields and prepare for battle."

His messenger's expression hardened, and he hurriedly relayed the order to his subordinates.

"Raise your shields!"

"Raise your shields!"

One by one, the junior commanders of the legion, dressed in bright armor, rode on their warhorses and shouted loudly.

"Raise your shields, lads!"

"drink!"

"drink!"

wow-

In an instant, countless shields emblazoned with the emblem of a three-headed fire dragon were raised, and long spears were placed between the shields.

The soldiers gripped their rifles tightly, their throats twitched slightly, and their palms were sweaty.

This formation of spears and shields was one of the most basic formations in the Targaryen army, primarily designed to counter cavalry charges.

During the year or so that Bessie led the First Legion to be stationed here, in addition to making the most of the time to build the castle, he also did a lot of military drills.

Moreover, many of the more than 10,000 soldiers he now leads are Andal warriors who participated in the Battle of Gödoho on this land.

A long spear formation was assembled in no time, while in the distance, a dark mass of Dothraki was surging in like a tidal wave.

A thousand horses galloped across the land, and the ground beneath the feet of the Targaryen soldiers trembled slightly.

Their invincible momentum overwhelmed them.

"Are these the Dothraki?"

Many of the Targaryen soldiers had never seen anything like it before, and some were already having second thoughts.

This is the Dothraki's survival tactic for defeating enemies: before the battle even begins, they are terrified, their morale plummets, and any slight attack will cause them to scatter and flee under the pressure.

This is why Jon Clinton desperately tried to stop Viserys from leaving the city to fight the Dothraki.

If Viserys had led an elite force, things would have been fine, but the ragtag garrison of Pentos was simply no match for such a force.

There may be deserters even before the fighting starts, and the collapse of the front line is often an avalanche-like disaster that could affect everyone and ultimately turn into a rout.

"Archers, hold your ground!"

"Regroup!"

Orders came from Bessie's mouth, and the lower-ranking commanders rode their warhorses behind her, shouting loudly.

"There's nothing to be afraid of in these damn bastards."

In the midst of a long, contradictory formation.

A Targaryen veteran who had once served Viserys spoke proudly to the new recruits beside him who had never seen such a spectacle.

"I once personally killed three Dothraki."

"Is that so?"

The new recruit, whose face was pale as he listened to the rapidly approaching hoofbeats, looked a little better after hearing the veteran's words.

Then they heard their general's voice.

"Archers!"

"hurry up!"

Mil sat upright on his warhorse, his hands tightly gripping the reins, and looking at the overwhelming Dothraki in the distance, he also felt a chill run down his spine.

However, he didn't show his fear on his face, because too many people were watching his expression.

Then Mir turned to look at his friend.

Going out of the city to fight was a very risky move, and Mil had privately tried to persuade Bessie to change her mind.

The two boys came from the same Andal village and were among the first to join Andalus.

However, unlike others, Bessie, who was calm, collected, and exceptionally brave from a young age and was even chosen by the village as the son of a warrior, was selected to become Viserys's Kingsguard after arriving in Andalus.

He was later appointed to lead troops abroad and eventually became one of the most powerful people in the kingdom.

Mil had been working his way up in the army.

Fortunately, both boys have had good fortune, surviving many hardships to this day and achieving their own successes.

And now... success or failure hinges on this moment.

Chapter 269 Fierce Battle!

"Hold the formation!"

"Don't panic!"

Faced with the overwhelming Dothraki, the soldiers at the forefront were the elite of the legion. However, even they felt tense at this moment, their breathing became rapid, and they gripped their weapons tightly.

Surrounded by countless soldiers, the legion commander remained calm and composed, commanding the troops as if surrounded by stars.

"Stay calm!"

"The Seven Gods will bless us."

"Warriors give us courage and strength."

His words calmed many panicked soldiers. Although faith is intangible, it has tremendous power in war, enabling soldiers facing desperate situations to unleash their last bit of courage.

"Archers, prepare!"

Then Bessie raised her hand, her gloved hand reflecting the metallic gleam of the morning sun.

"Draw your bow!"

"Draw your bow!"

The legion's captain, riding his warhorse, galloped behind and shouted loudly.

The Targaryen legions consisted of units of two hundred men each, with five units forming a commander of a thousand men. Below them were even more junior commanders, creating a well-organized command structure that allowed for the rapid transmission of the commander's orders.

Ahead stood a formidable formation of long spears and shields, while behind them were densely packed archers.

With their backs against the city walls, they had no way to retreat, but they were also not in danger. They didn't have to worry about the Dothraki sneaking around to attack their rear.

Therefore, the Targaryen army still occupied a favorable terrain, and the castle was located on slightly higher ground in the battlefield.

creak—

Upon hearing the command, all the archers drew their bows, pulled back the strings with a sickening sound, and aimed at the sky ahead at an angle.