Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 16 Great Victory
Qiao Ge's joining instantly changed the situation on the battlefield, and the enemy's position began to loosen.

Laharo was covered in blood, and his scimitar had already been bent. He took a breath, and used up his last bit of strength to raise Askara high!
At the moment when Laharo raised his scimitar, Jhogo and his Kas tribe swept past him on both sides like a brown wave, instantly drowning the enemies in front!
A strong airflow rushed from behind Laharo, almost blowing him down. He staggered a few steps before he could barely stand.

He used Askara to support his body on the ground, and blood dripped onto the ground along the blade.

In the sight, Qiao Ge was leading the way, swinging his scimitar like the wind, and every swing brought up a rain of blood.

The Kas tribe behind him was equally brave. They rushed into the enemy camp shouting and launched a one-sided massacre!

Faced with these divine soldiers sent from heaven, the enemy army completely collapsed as soon as they started fighting.

They were already exhausted and demoralized, and faced with the fierce attack of the fresh troops, they were knocked backwards, making a sound of broken bones and tendons. Then their flesh and blood bodies were trampled by the iron hooves, turning into pools of meat paste and mud.

Seeing that the situation was settled, Qiao Ge turned his horse and came to Lahalo. He dismounted, knelt on one knee, and respectfully presented the Atak scimitar in his hand.

"Blood of my blood, please change your sword!"

The smell of blood on the battlefield was so strong that it was sickening. Khal Fogo's horse-head banner had already fallen and was trampled to pieces by iron hooves.

The remaining soldiers fled in all directions like headless flies, some knelt down and begged for mercy, some fought stubbornly, but the tragic defeat was already doomed and could not be reversed.

The sounds of fighting gradually died down, leaving only the snorting of war horses and the groans of wounded soldiers.

Laharo rode on his horse, overlooking the tragic battlefield, and his eyes finally fell on the remaining soldiers kneeling on the ground.

Rahalo looked down at them. "Khal Fogo is dead,"

Laharo's voice was not loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly. "You now have two choices: either be killed or surrender!"

The captives looked at each other in bewilderment. Rahalo was Khal Dro's son, a true son of iron and blood.

They had witnessed the battle just now. Rahalo's bravery and his Khalasar's strength were enough to prove that they were worthy of loyalty!
A warrior with muscular body and bells tied in his hair stood up tremblingly. There were seven or eight wounds on his upper body and his face was covered with scars.

He bowed deeply to Rhallor and said in a hoarse voice, "We are willing to submit to you, Khal Rhallor!"

After the first one, there was the second one, just like dry wood igniting a raging fire. Immediately afterwards, one warrior after another lowered their heads, put their foreheads on the grass, spread their hands with their palms facing up, and offered their loyalty to the king of the sea of ​​grass!
"Very good," there was a hint of appreciation in Rahul's voice, "From today on! You are no longer losers, no longer the remnant of Khal Fogo! You are all my Rahul's warriors!

Be loyal to me, and I will grant you glory and abundance!
Betray me, and I will nail you to the grass with my own hands, and let your corpses become food for vultures!"

The captives responded in unison, their hoarse cries echoing across the battlefield.

Rhahalo didn't spare them a second glance, turning to his bloodriders.

"Jhogo," he commanded, "select the three thousand strongest men from among the prisoners and place them in my khas, and let the rest of the khasko choose the rest.

The wounded warriors were sent for treatment. I didn't want to lose anyone who could lift a knife."

Fogo is worthy of being called the second strongest in the Grass Sea. The warriors under his command are experienced in battles, not afraid of attacks on the camp, and can organize counterattacks, even forcing Lahalo into danger. His combat effectiveness is evident.

Through a series of reorganizations, Laharo transformed three thousand carefully selected warriors and his own remaining more than a thousand elite soldiers into a powerful fighting force.

...

At the same time, the battle in Saihelujiang was in full swing.

The Lazar and Mosso tribes closely followed Fogo and the traitor Jaco's 30,000-man army, constantly harassing and attacking them. Jaco was already worried about the rebellion, so he wanted to join forces with Fogo to kill Rahalo.

Now that he had learned of the death of Khal Fogo, he was like a frightened bird, and all he wanted was to escape from this place of trouble as soon as possible.

He wanted to order the entire army to retreat, but was held tightly by Lazar's troops. He could not escape even if he wanted to. Morale was low, people were in panic, and the shadow of failure hung over the entire army.

Mosso's guerrilla tactics also exhausted Fogo's army. According to Laharo, this is called "when the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy retreats, we advance; when the enemy stays, we harass; when the enemy is tired, we attack."

Guided by these sixteen-character mantras, Jaco and Ogo were completely trapped in the lower reaches of the Saihelu River.

At this time, Lahalo and Qiaogo also led their tribes and rushed over from the upper reaches of the Saihelu River at night.

The two armies met from a distance, and the entire Moso and Lazar armies pressed forward, completely blocking Fogo and Jaco in a narrow valley in the middle of the Saihelu River.

There are cliffs on both sides of the valley, and the valley bottom is narrow and rugged, like a huge pocket. Once you enter it, it is difficult to escape.

Jedi!

Laharo stood on the cliff, overlooking the dense enemy troops at the bottom of the valley. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to wipe out the enemy!
Jhogo's horse archers quickly occupied the high ground on both sides of the valley, while Laharo led the remaining cavalry to wait at the entrance of the valley.

The enemy troops at the bottom of the valley were completely in despair. They were huddled together in a messy formation. They had eaten up all their supplies and eventually began to kill their horses to satisfy their hunger. Their morale was extremely low.

Rahalo raised the scimitar in his hand high, and a cold light cut through the sky from top to bottom.

"Don't spare any of Jaco and his men!"

At his command, Jhogo's horse archers took the lead in attacking.

Countless sharp arrows poured down like a torrential rain, covering the sky and the sun, shooting towards the enemy troops at the bottom of the valley.

Wherever the rain of arrows passed, wailing, screams and the sound of arrows piercing flesh intertwined into a symphony of horror, and the air was filled with a strong smell of blood.

Thirty rounds of arrows rained down on the ground until the quiver was empty. Only then did Laharo lead the cavalry to charge.

The war horses neighed, their hooves galloped, and they rushed towards the enemy camp like a torrent.

At the same time, Mosuo also launched a fierce attack from the other end of the valley, forming a two-pronged attack.

The enemy army completely collapsed, trampling on each other, suffering heavy casualties. They were like lambs to the slaughter, with no power to resist.

In the chaos, Laharo saw Jaco fleeing in a panic at a glance.

Rahalo roared and rode in pursuit. Jaco was terrified and tried to escape, but there was no way he could escape.

In the end, Jaco was caught up by Laharo. He raised his sword and slashed it. The head flew into the sky, drawing a bloody arc in the air.

Fogo was shot into a hedgehog by the hail of arrows, and his body was trampled into a pulp by horses' hooves.

With Jaco's death, the enemy completely lost the will to resist, and they dropped their weapons and knelt down in surrender.

(End of this chapter)