Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 46: Night of the Crimson Scythe

Daenerys was surprised to find her memory of the Westeros terrain had become quite vague.

She took some interest in the map.

The scroll slowly unfurled.

She recognized it. First, the North, then the Riverlands, the Vale, the Iron Islands, the Westerlands, the Crownlands, the Stormlands, and the Reach.

Finally, Dorne.

Was there another section of the scroll, perhaps including the Summer Sea?

But she immediately realized she was wrong.

The scroll's rod rolled to the end.

On the last section of the map lay a chilling gleam of silver.

She only blinked, and a large hand, so fast it left afterimages, snatched up the silver light, completely removing it from her sight.

In less than a breath, the painful, angry shouts of the man beside her jolted her awake.

She blankly raised her head.

Ah! A dagger was sticking out of the Khal's chest!!

Ser Jorah was currently clashing with the Khal's scythe using his longsword!

The crowd above and below the platform instantly erupted!

The muffled sounds of tables being pushed and benches kicked, the metallic scraping of swords being drawn, loud shouts of cursing and screaming, and panicked cries for help all rose together, sounding like the end of the world.

Daenerys knelt weakly, staring blankly at everything.

The quicker guests and servants scrambled and crawled away from the platform that was about to turn into a purgatory.

Three bloodriders and a dozen Dothraki warriors rushed towards the Khal.

Aerys snatched the Beggar King's sword from his waist and headed straight for Illyrio, who was in a panic not far away. The fat magister had no guards now.

The magister only managed to say "No" before the sharp steel sword pierced his throat, then was ruthlessly pulled out.

The magister fell to the ground, convulsing.

Blood foam choked him, forcing him to cough, then there was the tearing sound of air, followed by silence.

Aerys laughed heartily.

The Dothraki immediately cast fierce, bloodthirsty gazes.

Aerys hurriedly dropped the blood-stained sword, dragged the frantically screaming Beggar King to Bono and Jhaqo.

He spoke in the Dothraki he had memorized, "Khal Bono, Khal Jhaqo, are you not planning to take countless gold, wine, and slaves? Now is the only chance! We still need the city gates!"

Bono and Jhaqo did not react.

Aerys was truly anxious. Jorah Mormont could be chopped into pieces by the scythe at any moment.

Suddenly.

A frenzied, sorrowful, ear-piercing cry came from the Khal's direction.

Aerys tried to suppress the surging ecstasy in his heart. Drogo was dead?!

Bono and Jhaqo exchanged glances.

Two days ago, the iron-clad Andal brought this little man to them, and the little man told them a delicious plan.

Drogo was dead.

Drogo had no sons. After him, who would get this khalasar?

Every khal was a possibility, but the greater possibility was that the khalasar would disband from then on, with the khals taking their khas to become new, smaller khalasars.

But what if one or two khals could avenge the Khal, filling every warrior with gold and slaves?

More and more warriors were drawn to the chaos on the platform.

They saw many corpses and blood. The bloodriders and the iron-clad man were running around in circles as they fought.

They looked towards the khals.

Khal Bono and Khal Jhaqo recognized many of their own khas among the crowd.

The two exchanged another glance, understanding each other's decision.

Two scythes flashed simultaneously, rushing towards the other witnesses on the platform, severing seven or eight lives in a few breaths.

Khal Bono raised his arms and shouted, "The Pentoshi magisters colluded with the bloodriders and these fellows to kill Khal Drogo! Avenge the Khal! Kill these grass-eating scum!"

Khal Jhaqo also gave the order, "Quickly, save that iron-clad man!"

Their two khas were the strongest, and with intentional or unintentional arrangements, the two khals' men accounted for more than half of the crowd at this time.

The warriors obeyed the khals' orders, howling as they joined the battle, immediately gaining an overwhelming advantage.

Someone wanted to speak the truth of Khal Drogo's death, but the incoming scythes became more and more numerous, more and more swift, drowning out all words.

What awaited them was a bloody purge.

Finally, Aerys, who had been waiting for the result, relaxed and slumped to the ground. It seemed he wouldn't die.

The battle ended quickly.

Khal Bono and Khal Jhaqo led the warriors away from here separately.

The area near the platform became eerily quiet.

Jorah, covered in blood, stood in front of Aerys, leaning on his sword, "Drogo was indeed a warrior worthy of respect, perhaps much stronger than me."

Aerys smiled and asked, "Then how is it that you are standing here?"

Jorah also smiled, "He was injured first, and he doesn't have this armor that only cowards would wear, plus it was close-quarters infantry combat. It would be abnormal if I were to be injured."

"The Dothraki are still better at fighting on horseback."

Aerys pretended not to see the few bloody marks on Jorah's body. In fact, he also understood that these injuries were nothing in a melee.

He looked around.

The Beggar King was cowering beside him, muttering to himself. Daenerys was still on the ground, unmoving.

He got up and walked towards the princess, "Your Highness, Aerys is honored to report to you that we will soon be returning to King's Landing. The Crown Prince is waiting for you."

Daenerys turned her head stiffly, looking in horror at this servant she had never dared to trust.

Ser Jorah comforted her, "Your Highness, don't panic. As long as you don't resist, we will definitely not harm you, nor will His Majesty the King and the Crown Prince."

Daenerys understood who the Majesty he spoke of was, the Usurper, not her brother.

She curled up helplessly.

Khal Bono and Khal Jhaqo, who had left earlier, had finished dealing with all the "outsiders" and gathered two groups of warriors, riding over on horseback.

Dothraki language rang out.

Jorah translated for Aerys, "They want you to fulfill your promise, open the gates of Pentos, and let them avenge the Khal."

Aerys sighed sadly, "The magisters are too irrational. How could they assassinate the Khal just because they feared his power? What a pity, now the beautiful Pentos must endure the Dothraki's wrath."

"Tell them they can depart now."

The setting sun had completely disappeared.

Pentos had not yet noticed anything unusual. The suburban grasslands were neither near nor far, and it was not strange for the Dothraki to make some noise.

Besides, would mounted barbarians attack a city at night?

With this thought in mind, coupled with the fact that the city gates had long been deserted, the city guards who were paid to do their jobs naturally enjoyed their dinner, paying no attention to the sharp blades in the shadows.

The sound of hooves approached.

A figure slowly rode in from outside the city gate. The mercenaries saw the signal.

The guards who were eating together were completely unprepared. Nearly half were killed or injured upon contact. The other guards and scattered civilians in the distance were unable to support them in time.

However, before the mercenaries could control the city gate.

Rumble ~

The ground trembled violently, and a low, oppressive thunder roared from outside the city, mixed with faint cheers and howls.

The charge of forty thousand cavalry!

Jorah led the Dragon siblings through the city gate first. After joining Aerys, their speed became faster and faster, galloping wildly towards the western harbor.

Just a few breaths later, countless Dothraki cavalry howled as they rushed into this fragile city gate.

The mercenaries who had harbored illusions and the few guards who were still struggling instantly turned into mud under the hooves of the horses.

The Dothraki entered Pentos.

Amidst the blood-red scene, Khal Jhaqo, no, Khal Jhaqo, appeared.

He announced sternly, "The Pentoshi people used gifts to exchange for the great khalasar's forgiveness, but now they have broken the sacred oath and killed Khal Drogo with despicable means! Unforgivable!"

He raised the crimson scythe high, "As punishment, revel to your heart's content! Warriors!"

Oh ~ Woo ~

The Dothraki cavalry's bloodthirsty and greedy desires were completely ignited. They must avenge the Khal!

No sheathing of blades for the night.

Everything in sight was a lamb to be slaughtered.

Fortunately, Aerys and the others had already escaped to the ship prepared in the harbor. A moment later, Aerys would not have known whether the Dothraki's scythe was a friend or foe.

The ship had already weighed anchor.

Aerys and Jorah stood on the deck, watching Pentos become brighter and brighter.

That was the firelight representing death.

Aerys was excited and uneasy. The mission had been completed, but would Her Highness be willing to see the blood night of Pentos?

Disordered footsteps came from behind.

The captain and a dozen sailors held swords, "Hey, Aerys, you know I'm a Pentoshi."

Aerys hid behind Jorah, "Your families aren't in the city, are they? What do you want to do?"

The burly captain spoke slowly and deliberately.

"More money."

How much money? Aerys didn't know, but he would soon find out.

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