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The banner of the red dragon on a black field fluttered over the ruins of the rhoynar village occupied by bandits. Viserys sat on a folding camp chair, gazing at the desolation before him.
Crumbling house walls, blood-stained soil—the harvest from the village fields had long since been plundered by the bandits.
Scavenging crows flew to and fro, letting out harsh, unpleasant cries.
Viserys removed his Dragon-wing Helm. His originally black and red cloak was now soaked in blood, emitting a metallic stench.
Wherever those violet eyes swept, they brought submission and slaughter.
Viserys seemed to be a fusion of many temperaments: the beauty of a true dragon, the fearlessness of a warrior, the elegance of an assassin, the artistic flair of a Singer, and the compassion of a man of destiny. This gave him a unique and complex charisma.
Argos, built like a small mountain, and the rhoynar Gaelin stood to Viserys's left and right as guards.
In truth, their skills were no match for King Viserys, but a king must have his guards. It was a matter of etiquette and a symbol of status, just as princesses and queens must have their ladies-in-waiting.
Most of the soldiers had already formed two rows, guarding both sides of the ruined village. They were like a river of steel, their blood-stained armor and weapons gleaming brightly.
The golden-haired, blue-eyed Andals were accustomed to carrying longswords and shields, while the dark-haired, deep-eyed rhoynar were used to spears, throwing spears, and javelins.
Although these soldiers came from different villages and different ethnic groups, they had all been tempered by Viserys in blood and fire.
"Long live King Viserys!"
"Long live King Viserys!"
"Victory! Victory!" the soldiers cheered, raising their weapons. Their voices were so fervent they could stir the clouds on the horizon.
Only victory can bring courage; only victory can bring confidence.
War itself is also a process of disenchantment; the enemy is not invincible.
Tyroshi slavers, rhoynar bandits, dothraki remnants—as the warriors crushed these enemies under Viserys's leadership, the soldiers gradually evolved from a ragtag band into true steel.
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Previously, their faith was in gods and prophets, but from now on, their faith would be in King Viserys and the vast earth.
Another group of Andal knights and rhoynar soldiers silently cleared the battlefield. Javelins, throwing spears, and arrows that could still be reused were to be recovered, along with some fine, uninjured Dothraki horses and sharp Arakhs.
The heads of all the rhoynar bandits and Dothraki remnants were hacked off. Large heads, small heads, Dothraki with braids, and Salt-folk with soft hair—all were hung upon spears.
These spears with hanging heads were thrust into the ground in a straight row, a potent deterrent. The heads, caked in mud and dried blood, looked terrifying, while crows pecked at the dead men's eyeballs.
The majority of the bandits' and remnants' corpses were tossed into the center of the ruins and set ablaze. Tongues of fire slowly licked over the bodies, leaving behind charred remains.
Human corpses easily contaminate water sources and cause plagues.
Bandits' corpses did not deserve burial; being burned to ash to fertilize the fields was their best end. This also aligned with dothraki beliefs—the earth should remain in its natural state.
With the fluttering of the true dragon's banner, the bandits were wiped out.
The surrounding rhoynar, who had been hiding and coerced, now swarmed over boldly, like flies to rotting fruit.
At their head was an elderly rhoynar Elder, accompanied by rhoynar warriors holding throwing spears.
The scattered rhoynar gradually increased in number, forming walls of people to view the ruins of the war. The once-arrogant bandits were now decapitated, leaving only their dried, ugly heads.
These olive-skinned, slender rhoynar with supple long hair and dark eyes were no longer wealthy. Their clothes lacked quality, and very few possessed silver-scaled armor, tortoiseshell shields, or fish-shaped helms.
In ancient times, the rhoynar were famous for their wealth, love of the arts, and elegant lifestyle. Since their downfall, however, they had become quite rustic.
The elders of the rhoynar villages led away the sobbing rhoynar women, the tragic victims of this war.
Such was the fate of those who became captives of bandits or the dothraki. The dothraki did not kill women, but they never spared men.
Viserys did not stop the rhoynar's actions. The wise among them should understand who had ended their humiliation.
The elders and soldiers of the rhoynar villages listened to eyewitness accounts of the battle—of King Viserys's bravery and ferocity, how he tossed bandits aside like a warrior and personally slew dothraki marauders.
Discipline, equipment, and training are the true essence of war. With commanders like Viserys and the burly Argus, the soldiers of Andals had finally gained a vigorous spirit.
The well-traveled rhoynar Elder understood that the fragmented rhoynar were no match for dothraki tribes, and now they couldn't even compete with the unified Andals.
The Andals had already begun to unite and form a stable army with cavalry, infantry, and longbowmen, while the rhoynar were still stuck in a state of village warfare, struggling even against dothraki remnants.
"Thank you for your generosity, Lord Viserys," an elderly, white-haired rhoynar Elder said, his tone very humble.
"You should address him as Your Majesty, Elder. Furthermore, you must kneel. His Majesty Viserys is the anointed and formally crowned King of the Andals, the rhoynar, and the first men," Argus said displeasedly, carrying his strikingly ugly greatsword.
His physique was quite intimidating, like a great wild boar king of the forest, possessing a stature similar to an Umber or the Mountain.
"The elders are wise men; they surely understand why I have come from so far away," Viserys said, waving a hand as he rose from his folding chair.
Viserys signaled Argus to stop, his gaze lingering on the rhoynar Elder's face.
The rhoynar were, after all, a civilized race; they required a combination of suppression and appeasement.
As for sub-human things like the Ironborn and the dothraki, Viserys felt that only slaughter would clear their heads.
"Fellow rhoynar, these dregs of our people conspired with the cruel dothraki remnants to pillage our villages and abduct our women. Mother Rhoyne weeps blood and tears, yet she could not save us from our tragic fate," the rhoynar Elder said, turning to the dense crowd of rhoynar.
"I have told myself countless times that the one who can lead us to defend our land is our king.
And now, I believe Mother Rhoyne has shown us the way." The rhoynar Elder pointed toward Viserys.
"King Viserys!"
"King Viserys!"
"Mother Rhoyne, light our path!"
Led by the rhoynar Elder, the shouting spread through the rhoynar like a plague. rhoynar elders, warriors, women, and children, as well as the sobbing rhoynar female captives.
"We have already lost too much. We must never let our descendants live as pathetically as we have."
The rhoynar and Andals of Essos were alike; they were orphans abandoned by the old world order, having lost most of their honor during the Century of Blood.
Now was a new opportunity, a chance for the oppressed to restore their past glory.
Perhaps the path would be bumpy, but those at the bottom would desperately grasp at this lifeline.
"People of the rhoynar villages, are you willing to fight with me, to endure disease, wounds, and death for the freedom and future of your tribe?" Viserys asked solemnly. "I cannot promise much. I only promise that I will fight like a king, never retreating, brave and fearless."
"Fight!"
"Fight!"
"Fight!"
The impassioned rhoynar all began to shout. Men and women, young and old, they all raised their arms with great fervor.
Their roars were the most sincere expression of their hearts, for the fate of the rhoynar.
"We offer you our loyalty, in the name of Mother Rhoyne." The rhoynar elders led their villagers forward respectfully. One after another, the rhoynar dropped their spears and bows before Viserys and knelt on one knee.
"I shall provide protection and justice to the rhoynar who submit to me, in the name of the true dragon and fire," Viserys said, resting his longsword on a rhoynar's shoulder.
These surrendering rhoynar would provide Viserys with warriors, taxes, and grain. In return, Viserys's soldiers would become the sword and shield of the rhoynar.
Some covenants are written in paper and ink, while others are forged in blood and tears.
This covenant was a new one—a covenant of water and fire, a covenant between the rhoynar and the Andals, a covenant between the true dragon and the great river.
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