On the desolate wilderness outside Viserysfort, the Tyroshi banners of the Three-Headed God fluttered high above the watchtowers. The massive silhouettes of the trebuchets were a complete eyesore.
The Tyroshi coalition had positioned the two giant trebuchets on the edge of their camp, right between the Tyroshi barricades and the Dothraki horde's encampment.
Even the Tyroshi and their sellswords harbored a deep-seated fear of the savage, cold-blooded Dothraki. Not to mention, the horselords had been grinding their gears for two days and were likely boiling over with pure, unadulterated rage.
Around the trebuchets, the coalition had cobbled together a small wooden palisade, flanked by freshly erected watchtowers.
However, they hadn't bothered to plant sharpened stakes around the perimeter or dig deep defensive trenches. A wide, open road connected the main coalition camp straight to this small barricade.
Naturally, the Tyroshi forces were dangerously underestimating their enemy, and the discipline of ordinary sellswords couldn't even hold a candle to the Golden Company.
After all, facing tens of thousands of Dothraki screamers, the coalition fully believed that if the Andals marched out for a field battle, they'd be slaughtered to the last man. Andalos didn't have the three thousand Unsullied that Qohor once had.
The Tyroshi coalition was already jerking themselves off with a massive sense of superiority. They just needed these two massive whores—the two giant trebuchets—to keep hurling rotting corpses until the White City couldn't take the stench and the plague anymore.
The Andals would be forced to march out and fight, and the massive Dothraki horde would sweep in and obliterate the Andal soldiers like a hurricane shredding dead leaves.
Victory would be right in the palm of their hands.
Their logic wasn't wrong. After all, no army could survive a torrential rain of arrows from tens of thousands of cavalrymen just to destroy a couple of Tyroshi trebuchets.
But Viserys had a dragon.
"Swing it, Dragon Slayer!"
"Let's become the real dragon slayers and butcher the last of the true dragons!" the mercenaries hollered with sick glee.
Suddenly, a golden shadow swept across the battlefield. The Tyroshi troops guarding the siege engines only saw a wave of furious, gold-and-red flames wash completely over the two massive trebuchets.
The trebuchets were built primarily from massive logs. For lubrication and tension, they were slathered in animal fat, thick animal sinews, and leather—all naturally highly combustible fuel.
Raging fire rained down from the heavens as the monarch of fire and ash materialized in the sky.
Viserys was clad in gleaming silver scale armor, while Sunblaze's golden scales radiated like a newly born, blazing sun.
The wind, reeking of sulfur and burning flesh, carried a bright glare that reflected off the helmets, breastplates, and shields of the Tyroshi soldiers.
To move more comfortably, a lot of the mercenaries weren't even wearing their full armor.
Deep down, they never actually believed the Andal army would have the balls to counterattack while the trebuchets were being set up. After all, they had a god-tier vanguard of tens of thousands of Dothraki screamers right there.
"What a beautiful suit of armor," many of the sellswords thought dumbly.
But their very next thought violently shifted into a single, frantic instinct: "Run!"
In the face of absolute, extreme violence and cold-blooded dragonfire, running was the only option left. But they were already too fucking late.
"Dracarys!" Viserys commanded.
Sunblaze's neck arched back like a fully drawn bowstring. Then came the fire—a violently searing, blindingly bright torrent of flames.
The massive trebuchets the Tyroshi coalition had painstakingly built were utterly annihilated in the blink of an eye, taking the sellswords guarding them straight to hell.
Dragon Slayer and Kiss of the Three-Headed God cracked and splintered in the inferno, exploding outward as thick black smoke shot into the sky.
The mercenaries danced and shrieked in agony within the blaze, completely engulfed in fire from head to toe. They kissed death before ever getting a taste of sweet victory.
The air was thick with the nauseating stench of roasting human meat.
"It's a dragon! A fucking dragon!"
"Run!"
"Viserysfort has a dragon!"
Hordes of burning sellswords stumbled and ran aimlessly, dropping dead in the extreme heat, only to spread the flames to new areas as their charred corpses fell.
The soldiers scurried around like ants in a furnace. The entire camp was reduced to an absolute slaughterhouse.
"Mommy!"
"Forgive me, Three-Headed God!"
"Fuck the Archon of Tyrosh! They have a fucking dragon... shit..."
In the face of brutal death, men began screaming the names they most desperately wanted to say.
The mercenaries guarding the trebuchets were swallowed by the inferno, turning into living torches themselves.
Viserys quickly spotted fresh prey: a fat, green-bearded Tyroshi man a short distance away. He wore insanely lavish clothes, his fingers weighed down by rings of every color.
In the sheer panic, his squires were violently shoving him onto a horse, but his fat ass made him clumsy. Even if he wanted to ditch all his heavy, gaudy jewelry now, it was too late. Viserys easily recognized him as a Tyroshi high-commander. He didn't give a shit exactly who the man was—kill first, ask questions later.
"Dracarys!" Viserys roared. Sunblaze tore through the clouds, soaring high and circling like a predator.
The entourage desperately trying to escort the Tyroshi Commander-in-Chief to safety looked up in sheer horror, completely unable to escape the dragon's maw.
Sunblaze spread his wings across the sky, diving gracefully like an eagle on the hunt.
Boom! A spinning ball of searing, gold-and-red fire crashed down. The green-bearded Commander-in-Chief couldn't even try to dodge.
"Get the fuck away!"
"Get off me!" the Tyroshi Commander wailed like a stuck pig. The flames instantly ignited his oiled hair, then his green beard, and finally his extravagant robes.
The fire erupted violently. Tyroshi men loved greasing their hair and beards with scented oils, which only ensured he roasted that much faster.
The violent inferno literally melted his eyeballs in their sockets, popping them like boiled eggs bursting in a fire. The flames crowned the fat Tyroshi, rising twice as high as his own head.
The sickening stench of burnt meat drifted through the air. The Tyroshi commander's agonizing shrieks completely drowned out every other sound on the battlefield.
But his pathetic wailing didn't last long. He was quickly reduced to a crispy, charred piece of charcoal.
Then came the rest of the slaughter.
"Commander!"
The Tyroshi guards were scared shitless. They never imagined their Commander-in-Chief, taking charge of a massive war for the first time, would be wiped off the face of the earth in mere seconds.
Viserys felt a surge of dark satisfaction. He had torched the trebuchets and roasted their Commander-in-Chief in one go—talk about killing two birds with one stone.
But the guards didn't even have time to cry over their boss's crispy remains. The warhorses, driven completely insane by the dragon and the fire, sprinted wildly until they foamed at the mouth. One by one, the riders and their mounts were swallowed by the dragonfire until nothing but death remained.
The desperate Tyroshi sellswords who couldn't outrun the flames tried firing a few pathetic crossbow bolts at Sunblaze, completely in vain.
Sunblaze was terrifyingly agile. The bolts couldn't even graze the dragon's body; they only managed to piss him off even more.
Any lucky shots that actually hit Viserys merely bounced uselessly off his silver-plated armor.
Sunblaze ripped back into the sky, leaving behind a camp completely reduced to a smoldering, chaotic wasteland.
"It's a dragon! A fucking dragon! Get the scorpions ready! Man the ballistae!"
Frantic, roaring commands echoed endlessly through the utterly chaotic military camp.
Viserys steered Sunblaze toward a new target. He didn't bother diving into the central vanguard where Bloodbeard and the other captains were stationed.
Instead, he pivoted toward a much juicier target: the Tyroshi stables and their mule-drawn supply caravans.
The stables and supply trains were situated at the very rear of the Tyroshi encampment. In a standard military engagement, it would be almost impossible for an army to punch through the lines and reach them.
But right now, with a fucking dragon, Viserys could drop completely unpredictable, devastating strikes from the sky.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
The scorpion crews on the perimeter barricades immediately fired off several massive bolts, but Sunblaze effortlessly dodged them all in mid-air.
There weren't that many scorpions stationed here anyway. Plus, with the Heart Spell binding Viserys and Sunblaze, their minds were perfectly synced, moving as a single, lethal entity.
"Dracarys!"
Two of the Tyroshi watchtowers instantly disintegrated in the blast of fire. The scorpion gunners standing on top plummeted to the earth, screaming as the flames consumed them.
"Dracarys!" Viserys roared again.
The dragon's fury swiftly swept across the Tyroshi stables. The warhorses that couldn't escape in time shrieked in sheer terror, burning alive and dying under the collapsing, flaming thatched roofs.
As for the nearby supply camp, every single wagon hauling grain, salted meats, and fine wine was completely engulfed in fire.
The mouth-watering aroma of roasting food mixed sickeningly with the stench of charred flesh and death. It was way too late to salvage any of the supplies.
Viserys brought absolute slaughter and arson as Sunblaze wreaked pure havoc across the Tyroshi coalition camp.
Viserys had vaporized their giant trebuchets first, then ruthlessly torched the coalition's horses and entire logistical lifeline.
"It's over. It's all fucking over."
Bloodbeard slumped heavily onto his ass on the dirt. He grabbed a handful of mud and desperately smeared it all over his own face, terrified that his bright, blood-red beard would make him the dragon's next target.