Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

Compared to Barbkao at that time, this man's arrogance had already been greatly reduced.

At least no one dared to barge into the tent and demand to sit in their spot.

Viserys looked the other man up and down, then chuckled softly.

Meanwhile, Khal Drogo's Bloodfist Guard, Korso, was also sizing up Viserys. He could tell that the refined and elegant young man in front of him was not very old, and even somewhat immature.

Perhaps he was only just old enough to be a warrior in his tribe.

However, although the other person's smile was calm, it made him feel extremely awkward for some reason, as if they were mocking him.

However, once that thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help but feel that the smile on Viserys' face was mocking.

Anger flashed across Koso's face; the boy had been mocking him relentlessly.

However, Koso wanted to lash out several times, but in the end, he remembered the glares of the lambs that had just surrounded him, as if they wanted to devour him, and he didn't dare to slam his fist on the table.

He awkwardly adjusted his sitting posture, pulled a mischievous flea off his neck, and then, without any further words, got straight to the point, speaking in Dothraki with a stiff tone.

Dothraki has many stressed syllables, making it sound rather forceful. Viserys couldn't understand what the other person was saying, so he turned to look at the translator.

The Dothraki translator broke out in a cold sweat after hearing Koso's words. Not all Dothraki were mindless brutes; some were bold and fearless, while others were relatively less courageous.

However, the main reason he survived was that he had never lived in the Dothraki environment since childhood, but rather as a slave in the Golden Company.

His master appears to be an exiled nobleman from Westeros, who later bought him to work as a translator.

However, now that Koso had spoken, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and translate according to his wishes.

"Your Excellency."

"Khal Drogo is demanding at least three thousand slaves and ten thousand gold coins in exchange for making up for his losses. He will leave here if this is done."

The translation was a bit clumsy, with many awkward words, but Viserys still understood what he was saying.

"Three thousand slaves? Ten thousand gold coins?"

Although the continent of Essos also collects gold dragons, it also has a variety of currencies, with almost every free trading city-state having its own currency.

Including the splendid coins of Qarth and Valantis, the gold mark, etc., in addition to round ones, there are also oblong, triangular, and prismatic shapes.

Although Viserys was somewhat prepared, he was still surprised by Drogo's outrageous demands.

"Too many."

He then shook his head and gave a self-deprecating smile.

"It seems that Khal Drogo really sees me as a rich man."

"Since that's the case, and we can't reach an agreement, let's just push them down and kill them."

The young king glanced at the guards on his left and right, then calmly gave his orders.

"I can't afford this amount of money."

"Nor will they hand over their people to be slaves."

Upon hearing Viserys's command, the guards standing on the left and right sides of the tent instantly drew their short swords and placed them against the necks of the two Dothraki.

They didn't even have a chance to resist; they were immediately dragged out and killed according to His Majesty the King's orders.

The Dothraki translator was instantly terrified. He naturally understood Viserys's words, but he hadn't expected this seemingly cheerful young governor to turn on him so suddenly, catching him completely off guard.

Others negotiate by asking for exorbitant prices and then settling for bargains; everything can be negotiated. However, no one expected that Viserys would say he had neither money nor people, and then threaten to kill someone with a knife.

Korso, one of Drogo's blood brothers, couldn't understand what Viserys was saying. Before the translator could even speak, the guards on either side of him had their swords to his neck.

But at this point, there was no need for a translator; Cosso understood everything instantly.

The arrogant Dothraki man's face showed no fear, but rather madness. His gloomy eyes were fixed on Viserys as he roared something, seemingly still wanting to struggle.

The translator, trembling, dared not translate Koso's threats, such as that Khal Drogo would avenge them and kill all the lambs.

However, the Blood Guard was still saying something when he glared at the translator and then said a few more words. The translator was slightly taken aback, then realized what he meant and quickly nodded, then spoke loudly to Viserys.

"Your Excellency."

"Lord Korso challenges you in accordance with Dothraki tradition, and if... if Lord Korso can win, we hope you will let us leave."

Chapter 116 Angry

However, the last sentence was added by the translator on his own initiative, because he still wanted to live and did not want to die.

Viserys was slightly taken aback when he heard the Dothraki's request, but then he understood and a smile appeared on his handsome face.

"it is good."

"I accept your challenge."

Then the young king stood up, took a longsword from a guard, and gestured to the guards around him to use their swords to force the Blood Oath Guards of Koso to retreat.

The guards had no choice but to comply when they saw that His Majesty the King readily agreed, though they weren't really worried about Viserys.

Because everyone in Andalus knows Viserys's title of 'Silver Prince'.

This title once belonged to Viserys's elder brother, Rhaegar Targaryen. However, now the same title is bestowed upon Viserys, whose story of committing murder at the age of seven has been circulated as a symbol of ruthlessness and martial prowess.

Because Viserys was still a minor, there was a common practice of referring to him as a 'prince'.

However, it is clear that Viserys's reputation only spread within the Andalus Plains, and perhaps with the movement of caravans, it reached several free trading city-states around Andalus, such as Pentos, Braavos, and Norfos.

The Dorslark were naturally excluded from this group, as they believed all warriors came from the Great Grass Sea and held other races in contempt.

Khal Drogo's Blood Pact guard, Korso, was released from his restraints. He moved his shoulders slightly, then twisted his neck, the joints of his neck making a cracking sound.

He himself was somewhat surprised. He had initially thought the other party would never dare to accept his challenge, and that it was merely a desperate attempt before death. But since this young man had the courage to accept his challenge...

Koso's eyes were gloomy, flashing with a ruthless light. Of course, he didn't want to die either, and no one wanted to die.

His current plan is to kidnap the boy during this battle and then use that opportunity to escape.

This was the only way for him to escape from the death of G. Doherty.

He even had the chance to capture the opponent and bring him directly to Khal Drogo, achieving a great feat that might earn him a few impressive rewards...

The more Koso thought about it, the more plausible it seemed, and it all stemmed from the boy's overconfidence.

At his age, he was barely qualified to become a Dothraki warrior in the tribe. Did such a rookie really think that having guards around him would ensure his safety?

Corso, being one of Drogo's Blood Guards, was certainly no useless man. His hands were extremely dexterous; he could wield two Arak scimitars simultaneously and slit his enemies' throats with deadly precision.

Therefore, Koso was extremely confident in his own strength. He would not kill the boy; he believed he could capture him alive.

Korso challenged Viserys, while the guards escorted another Dothraki aside, clearing the center of the arena.

Fortunately, Viserys' tent was large enough, otherwise he wouldn't even have been able to stretch his legs properly.

The Blood Oath Guard flexed his wrists one last time, then finally drew his Arak scimitar from his back waist and pounced forward, letting out a strange roar.

"Roar--"

The young Blood Guard slashed directly at Viserys's neck, while the elegant silver-haired youth stood quietly in place, sword in hand, his pale purple eyes watching the other rush towards him.

Then, with a light flick of his feet, he effortlessly dodged the opponent's lunging strike.

"Ok?"

Koso stumbled forward, then paused for a moment, surprised that Viserys had dodged so easily, avoiding his attack perfectly.

Is it a coincidence?

Then, Khal Drogo's Blood Guards once again revealed their ferocity, like an enraged dog, roaring as they charged forward again with their scimitars in hand.

However, Viserys skillfully dodged it again this time.

"What's going on..."

Koso is not a fool.

He naturally realized that Viserys was not as easy to deal with as he had imagined, and his heart skipped a beat, with a faint sense of unease rising within him.

As Koso held the Arak scimitar, he stared intently at the figure of the 'Silver Prince,' his inner pressure increasing, his breathing becoming heavier, and his chest rising and falling slightly.

Call ~

Call ~

He vowed to see Viserys's dodging movements clearly this time.

Then, Drogo's right-hand man roared once more and charged forward for the third time.

Viserys decided to stop toying with the Dothraki warrior this time, and his pale purple eyes reflected the warrior's hysterical figure.

He then dodged his attack again with a slight movement, while simultaneously slashing out with the guard's longsword in one hand.

puff--

Viserys' sword struck Korso's wrist, wielding the Arak scimitar, severing his right hand. Blood gushed out, and the scimitar fell to the ground with a thud along with his severed right hand.

Clang clang—

The battle on the field was easy and enjoyable.

Viserys was toying with his opponent, and every guard present could see it, so they had long since relaxed.

Corso struggled desperately, like a trapped beast, but in the end, Viserys chopped off one of his hands with a single sword strike.

One of his hands was severed in the battle, and a sudden, intense pain erupted, sweeping through Koso's brain like a tsunami.

Instantly, the Dothraki's eyes widened, cold sweat rolled down his forehead, and the muscles in his cheeks twitched.

"what--"

Koso then let out a painful roar and collapsed to his knees with a thud.

His only remaining hand gripped his bare arm tightly, blood still gushing out, and the expression on his face was so painful that it was almost distorted.

Seeing Korso's pained expression, Viserys showed no mercy this time, gripping the blood-stained hilt of his sword with both hands and raising it high once more.

puff--

next second.

Blood gushed out high like a fountain once again, even splashing onto the top of the tent.

Gollum-