Chapter 61 The Strongest Kao

Unfortunately, the enemy Nohat faces is not an ordinary tribal Khal or an incompetent bandit. He is the Dothraki naval battle invincible Khal Drogo. He has extremely powerful power, and he still commands Thirty thousand roaring Dothraki warriors who have roamed Essos for centuries.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the entire sky. The cavalry from both sides collided with each other with thunderous momentum, and the horses neighed tragically.

The spears penetrated the surging rain lines and pierced into the bodies of the warriors. The scimitars that reflected the light like stars flew in the blood and flesh. People were thrown from their horses in pain and fell to the ground wailing.

Drogo seemed to be a giant resurrected from ancient times. He shouted and let out a fiery roar, killing the oncoming cavalry as if he were entering an uninhabited land.

His bloodriders guard Kaa's left and right, like invincible thunder and lightning, coming and going freely in the formation, slashing all enemies crazily.

Nohat is not a simple character who just sits back and waits for death. He rushes into the enemy formation with his cavalry, and his scimitar can always hit the enemy accurately with lightning and flint.

But the enemy was outnumbered, and the shrill howls kept coming to his ears, and fewer and fewer cavalry gathered around him.

"With the total death!"

Nohat shouted the order to charge, and his sonorous voice echoed on the battlefield:

"Fight to the death! Let us rush towards the doomsday of death!"

The cavalry charged forward, shouting in unison:

"Live and die together! Fight to the death and never retreat!"

They no longer value their lives, launch a fatal attack, and pounce on the enemy.

It seemed like a lot of time had passed since Nohat launched the charge. In fact, it was just a short gathering of warriors.

"Rush, rush forward! Rush to victory!"

The trumpet sounded from the north, and the call for the entire army to attack pierced the darkness and went straight into the sky.

The cavalry led by Corsolo gathered on the right wing and launched a charge. All the warriors rushed out, like a black torrent condensed by a storm, across the open space and rushed towards the fighting enemy formation.

His body had gone through a lot of hardships and was extremely weak. His limbs were trembling as if they had lost all strength. He was even almost thrown off the horse's back because the horse sprinted too hard.

But as a brave Dothraki, Khal Mongo's most loyal warrior, although he is short and thin, he is also brave and good at fighting.

Facing a large number of enemies, Corsoro was fearless and still took the lead, charging forward to boost morale. His eyes were filled with the firm belief that there was nothing to fear in death.

Just like that, the black torrent was like a spear inserted into the enemy's defenseless flank, giving the enemy a heavy blow, and those warriors perished in panic and struggle.

Then, the entire battlefield began to boil as if coals were thrown into the hot water.

This battle turned from a one-sided crushing into a bloody battle. The sound of the blades clashing was deafening, mixed with the shouts of people and the neighing of horses.

Some people cried in despair and fell off their horses, and some horses ran out of the battlefield in panic. They kept shouting to reorganize their formation and launched counterattacks.

Victory is like tears, death follows like a shadow, the heavy rain turns red, and the blood rolls, dyeing the entire land red.

Corsolo was stabbed in the waist and abdomen. The cavalry under his command surrounded him in the center. Scarlet blood slowly flowed out from the wound. He looked up at the western sky and could feel the life slowly passing through his body. The hope in his heart began to subside.

Drogo's troops felt that victory was in sight and their morale was boosted. They went around the back of their opponents and launched a more violent offensive.

Hearing the mourning coming from all around, Corsolo finally raised his spirits and ignited the fire in his chest. He ordered the horn to be blown and prepared to fight until the last moment. He would rather dye the ground red with blood and die in battle, as long as it could be delayed longer. .

The cavalry under his command built a wall of flesh and blood to escort him on the battlefield. The souls of the Dothraki were floating in the wind. All the troops gathered around him consciously. No one could stop them from joining together. He shouted loudly:

"We fought bloody battles and killed countless enemies. We are the brave Dothraki."

Corsoro roared out these oaths. For the first time in his life, he obeyed his heart to vent his emotions. He laughed and looked at the tall and strong Drogo, holding his scimitar high, ready to fight to the end.

At this moment, he was surprised by the sudden earthquake tremor. His despair was instantly replaced by ecstasy, and everyone's eyes were looking in the same direction as him.

Under the dome, dark clouds rolled and thunder roared.

In the alternation of light and darkness, a large gilt tapestry of galloping horses appeared first. When the strong wind blew, the tassel made of gold and silver threads combined with the black stallion's mane fluttered, and the galloping horse at the top shone under the thunder light. Brilliant because it is forged from Valyrian steel and gold, it is the symbol of Khal Mungol, forged by Qohor's most renowned craftsmen and seen for the first time.

A huge horn was blown hard by the cavalry, and it seemed as if the horn sounded all over the world.

The horse riding on the world is as fast as the wind. The tribes behind him cover the entire land and are countless. The bells in his hair sing his arrival. The enemies are afraid of his momentum and panic. When he is angry, no one can stop him. In front of him, the king must bow his head.

Mongo rode a fiery red horse and rushed to the front of the team. He raised the Valyrian steel scimitar in his hand. The red runes on the black blade became more dazzling in the thunder. As Kaa moved, behind him The cavalrymen drew out their scimitars one after another, and the scene filled the battlefield with the light of swords like stars.

The Dothraki had been through many battles. Although they were frightened and didn't know what to do, they would never sit and wait for death. Drogo immediately roared and ordered the blood-red warhorse under his crotch to charge forward.

A group of elite warriors quickly gathered behind him, forming a vanguard and rushing towards the gilded banner of the herd. The rest of the warriors gave up fighting with the enemy, regrouped, and followed closely.

The cavalry under Kosoro were too tired to pursue, and even their horses collapsed to the ground and cried.

"This must be the last battle."

The cavalry of both sides collided with each other again with thunderous momentum, making a loud bang, and the horses neighed in pain and fell to the ground with unsteady steps.

Sword shadows crossed, blood rained, and Mungo's violent charge instantly defeated the enemy's vanguard. A large number of cavalrymen rushed into the enemy camp with him. His horsemanship and strength surpassed all Dothraki people, and he also had Valyrian steel weapons. In a flash, he split the enemy's knights in half.

No one could slow down the speed of his warhorse. He slashed like crazy as if he was in an empty space. He quickly killed through the enemy's formation and rushed out of the blood.

His figure brought despair and fear to the enemy. These people didn't even dare to open their eyes or look up at him. After all, even trained warhorses would lie down like ordinary beasts and tremble when facing him. This scene completely destroyed the enemy's hope of resistance.

"Mungo, Mungo."

The sonorous roar echoed at the foot of the mountain like the knocking of iron felt.

Mungo heard the shout, and he was also looking for the owner of the voice.

In this life-and-death battlefield, facing the invincible Mungo, only one person would dare to roar this name here.

That was Khal Drogo. His anger surpassed all reason, and his eyes were full of blood red, because Mungo destroyed the strongest tribe in the Dothraki Sea that he and his father had created together.

The golden light of thunder shone on their bronze skin, and the two men's tall bodies like giants shocked all the onlookers.

At the same moment, they charged at each other without any reservation, but Mungo swung his sword faster. Drogo jumped back from his horse's back and avoided the sword dangerously. He fell to the ground because of his unstable footsteps, but the warhorse under his crotch died under this heavy blow. He flew forward two steps and fell to the ground because he could not stop the momentum. He saw the miserable state of his mount and roared in anger and pain.

There was a trace of surprise in Mungo's eyes. He did not expect that Drogo's tall and strong body could still make such agile movements, but he did not give the other party time to change horses and fight again.

Leaping off the horse, facing Drogo who was about to give him a fatal blow, Mungo did not dodge or evade, but twisted his arm that was swinging the knife, and then kicked his leg bone, without waiting for him to howl in anger or pain, he pulled out the bronze dagger at his waist and stabbed it into his throat.

The scimitar fell to the ground with a clang, and Drogo fell on the corpse of his warhorse. He died in the glory and splendor that the Dothraki people most desired in their lives, fighting until the last moment.

Blood spit out from his mouth, and the blood of the horse and the warriors was washed away by the heavy rain. The weak breath was dispersed in the air with the strong wind, and disappeared from this era.

There is only one update today. I need to sort out the following plot and eliminate some unimportant plots. Well, some plot processes will not be spent on words, but the style is still the same style and will not change.