Near the border between Volantis and the lands of the Three Daughters lay a vast and dangerous stretch of wetlands known as the Weeping Marsh.
Waterways crisscrossed the land, deep mud pits lay underfoot, and miasma filled the air, making passage difficult for a large army.
Liu Qian had long known of this place from maps and scouts' reports. Rather than risk crossing it, he led his army around the marsh's southern edge, heading straight for the city of Volantis.
That day, the army reached an open wilderness.
Far along the horizon, they could already faintly make out the orange coast in the western part of the plains of Volantis.
Before they could advance any farther, however, dust rose along the horizon, blotting out the sky and sun.
Soon, a dark mass of troops appeared at the edge of their vision.
A formation of Volantene Tiger Cloaks in silver armor and tiger-skin cloaks occupied the center.
Vast Slave Army legions with mismatched equipment crowded both flanks.
Farther out were countless Dothraki riders, roaring and shouting as they brandished their curved blades.
They belonged to the khalasar led by Moroqao, who had been away when the holy city burned, and they hated Liu Qian to the bone.
An army numbering over sixty thousand blocked Liu Qian's path.
"Form ranks!"
The officers under Liu Qian issued their orders.
Twenty thousand cavalry swiftly spread into battle formation.
Fifteen hundred Dragon Spirit Guardians held firmly at the center.
Though overwhelmingly outnumbered, this army exuded a fearlessness that stood in stark contrast to the noisy, chaotic coalition opposite them.
Malaquo Maegor Ya sat astride a tall warhorse before the Tiger Cloaks' formation.
He spotted the two Great Dragons circling in the distance, and his heart pounded.
He raised his hand high, then swept it down.