Battle on the Grasslands (Part One)

The Dothraki Sea, Essos.

Khal Drogo looked at the enemy scout his Bloodriders had captured and asked, "Whose command are you under? Who is your Khal?"

The scout merely raised his head and glanced at Drogo without saying a word.

Seeing the scout disrespect their Khal, Drogo's Bloodriders went up and began punching and kicking him.

Drogo watched as the scout refused to talk despite the Bloodriders' beating.

He waved a hand, ordering his men to drag the scout away.

After the scout was dragged away, although Drogo had learned nothing from him, he still felt that the enemy might attack them. He ordered Kohoro, "Notify all the kos. An enemy attack is coming. Prepare for battle."

Kohoro was one of Drogo's three Bloodriders; the other two were Haggo and Qotho.

Kohoro was short and stout, with a bald head, a hooked nose, and a mouthful of small, uneven teeth. He was an ugly man, but Drogo trusted him deeply.

Haggo was tall and powerfully built, but often taciturn, and always liked to look at others with a vicious gaze.

Qotho likewise had a cold gaze, but he was extremely agile.

However, Qotho seemed to have a particular hobby: he enjoyed tormenting and hurting others.

And this Qotho was the Bloodrider who would later be killed by Jorah Mormont.

Upon hearing Drogo's orders, Kohoro immediately went to find the other kos and begin preparations for war.

The entire Khalasar sprang into action. Drogo commanded roughly forty thousand Dothraki Screamers; the rest were elderly people, women, children, and the infirm.

Drogo left ten thousand men behind to guard the camp and protect the elderly, the infirm, the women, and the children within it.

He led the remaining thirty thousand forward in the direction where the scout had been discovered, seeking to hold off the enemy there.

Drogo had never lost since childhood, as the long braid down his back proved, with tiny bells tied to it.

His braid had never once been cut, signifying that Drogo had never lost a battle.

Yet he had not grown arrogant because of this. He gave his all in every battle and every war.

Moreover, a rumor had recently been circulating among all the Khalasars that the legendary Khal had appeared, possessing power beyond anyone's imagination. And more than half a year ago, the Holy City of Vaes Dothrak had indeed issued a notice to the major Khalasars.

The notice said that the legendary Khal had appeared and called upon the other Khals to bring their Khalasars to the Holy City of Vaes Dothrak to pay homage and submit.

Naturally, the vast majority of Khals scoffed at the notice and ignored it, but a few had taken their Khalasars there to see whether it was true. No further news had come from them, however.

They had probably been absorbed. Although none of those Khals' Khalasars individually had as many people as Drogo's did,

their numbers would add up. Combined, they would certainly surpass Drogo's Khalasar, and might even be far more numerous and powerful than Drogo imagined.

If a force like that attacked, Drogo's Khalasar alone would certainly be unable to withstand it.

Although Drogo prided himself on his exceptional fighting prowess and had never encountered an opponent he feared in all his battles since childhood, if his opponent truly was this legendary Khal, he could not guarantee victory in this war.

The enemy might number well over a hundred thousand, and as a Dothraki himself, he knew full well how formidable the Dothraki were in battle.

It could be said that every Dothraki was a veteran who had survived many wars. Against such an enemy, Drogo dared not let down his guard.

As time passed, Drogo's men also felt the ground trembling.

Gradually, the sound of hoofbeats came from the distance. With so many riders charging, what Drogo's men heard sounded like rumbling thunder.

As mounted enemy figures began appearing one after another on the distant horizon,

the distant enemy finally came into view, attacking Drogo's position in a mass as dense as locusts. After a long journey, Eren had finally caught up with the Khalasar ahead. He saw that the enemy had already drawn up their battle lines, ready to fight him for supremacy.

He immediately ordered Modun to lead fifty thousand men into the attack, while he kept Link's thirty-thousand-strong division in the rear to observe the battle formations. Eren had brought no Pure Titans to this war, only Dothraki cavalry.

After all, he had brought eighty thousand men, and no Khalasar in the entire Dothraki Sea had more warriors than he did.

If eighty thousand men could not defeat the enemy before them, there was little point in keeping them.

Modun rode at the head of his men toward Drogo's forces. Seeing this, Drogo showed no fear whatsoever, raising his blade and leading his army in a charge toward Modun.

As the two sides closed in, while there was still some distance between them, the first sounds were the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of arrows cutting through the air. Many Dothraki warriors on both sides began shooting at the enemy from horseback.

For these warriors, who had grown up on horseback from an early age, mounted archery was as simple as an everyday meal.

Before the two sides had even begun fighting at close quarters, many Dothraki warriors had already been struck by arrows, falling from their horses and dying. Those lucky enough to survive were trampled into pulp by the horses of their comrades behind them.

The brutality of war was plain to see. In the previous few battles, Eren had put the Pure Titans at the front, where they had blocked many arrows for the warriors, drawn fire, and cleared obstacles, so their casualties in those battles had been light.

As the distance between the two sides grew ever shorter, Modun let out a strange cry. Hearing it, the warriors around him moved several meters away of their own accord.

When Khal Drogo's warriors saw someone on the other side become separated from those around him, they were startled, wondering whether the man was out of his mind to attempt to charge their ranks alone.

A short while later, the two sides clashed at close quarters. With a strange cry, Modun leaped from his horse. An enemy soldier wasted no time and drove a spear straight through his chest.

The enemy's spear pierced clean through Modun, leaving him impaled upon it. The enemy hoisted Modun's body high on the spear, believing he had killed him with that single thrust.

As he was cheering, yellow lightning erupted from Modun's body. A blast rang out, and the yellow light blinded the enemies around him.

The enemy holding Modun's body aloft on his spear was scalded to death on the spot, while those nearby were blasted away, sending men and horses tumbling all around.

The other enemies nearby saw a skeleton with flesh weaving itself around it amid the light. In the blink of an eye, a masked giant with a pair of sharp claws appeared on the spot.

The surrounding enemies were stunned by the giant's sudden appearance and sat frozen on their horses, but their frightened mounts carried them charging straight toward the giant.