Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 73 Thousands of arrows pierce the heart
With deafening cheers echoing in his ears, Laharo turned his gaze to the row of Golden Corps prisoners kneeling on the city wall.

"I can give you a chance."

He paused, his eyes wandering over the captives, making sure everyone could hear clearly, "Today's war was not caused by any hatred between us, but was instigated by Illyrio.

You are all elites. My Khalasar was able to defeat you not because I am stronger than you, but because of luck.

I know that you always harbor the hope of returning to Westeros and long to restore your family's former glory.

Warriors, as long as you swear allegiance to me, Rhaelor, and allegiance to my Khaleesi Daenerys Targaryen.

You won't have to wander in a foreign land, you can come with me, and I will lead you to take back the land that once belonged to you!"

They knelt on the ground, exchanging glances with each other, and most of them had an expression of excitement on their faces.

They didn't know why Laharo knew all this, but his words gave them a way out and saved their face, and also ignited the fire of desire in their hearts.

They had long heard that Rhallor had taken the Reach with only a thousand men. At least this man had a goal, the ability, and took action for it, which was much better than Jon Clinton's empty slogans.

They fought aimlessly in Essos for years, and ultimately died sadly in some unknown corner.

By pledging allegiance to Rahalo, perhaps you can truly escape the fate of being a mercenary!
Harry Strickland was not a resolute man to begin with. Looking around, he realized that the situation was hopeless. Finally, he sighed deeply and slowly lowered his head.

As Harlan swore allegiance, the second person followed suit, and then the third, the fourth...

More and more people lowered their heads, like dominoes, and said all kinds of things. Some swore to the Lord of Light, some to the Old Gods, their beliefs were varied, but most of them were still the Seven Gods.

In the original book, these people will soon swear allegiance to young Aegon. After all, Daenerys is also a Targaryen, so there is no need to worry about their loyalty.

Laharo accepted everything that came his way.

Jorah Mormont was tied up like a dumpling with ropes and witnessed the entire battle on the city wall.

The hemp rope cut deeply into his arm, causing great pain, but the pain was nothing compared to the shock he felt in his heart.

He had always seen Rhahalo as a reckless man who relied on luck to win his battles, the Battle of Fogol, followed by the Battle of the Reach, and now the Battle of the Golden Company.

But now he understood that what Laharo relied on was not luck, but his long-term strategic vision and political wisdom!
Moreover, he exudes an aura that is both terrifying and unpredictable. With just a few words, he can shatter the enemy's will and force them to surrender!

Moreover, Rhallor possessed everything Jorah envied: strength, wisdom, status, and the ability to change his fate...

As he pondered this, Jorah shuddered, feeling Rahalo's gaze, a half-smile on his face, as if asking him, "What's your choice?"

I can't die here no matter what.

He gritted his teeth and lowered his head.

"I, Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, pledge my loyalty to you and your Khaleesi."

Among Rahalo's men, only Jorah is suitable for counterintelligence work. If we keep him alive, there might be a surprise.

Among all the people present, only Jon Clinton stiffened his neck and looked at his companions who were taking the oath with a sneer on his face.

Rhallor approached Jon Connington and asked, "You will not swear allegiance to me?"

Jon stared at Rhallor and spat at his feet.
"Don't be so arrogant here. You are the enemy of the Targaryen family! I will never bow to you!"

Rhaharo shrugged, ignored him, and turned to old Mosso. "Hang him with Illyrio, and let a thousand arrows pierce their hearts."

As Jon was hoisted onto the flagpole, two hundred archers lined up, drew arrows from their quivers, drew their bows, and aimed at the two figures on the flagpole. The crowd erupted in excitement, women covering their children's eyes, some cheered loudly, and others pushed to the back, as if afraid of being splashed with blood.

At that moment, the bowstrings were released simultaneously, and with a continuous bang, the arrows whistled towards Illyrio and Jon Connington.

None of the two hundred arrows missed their target. Two bodies were pierced by the dense arrows in an instant. The corpses shook slightly due to the huge impact force, and blood slowly flowed down the arrow shafts, dripping onto the city wall.

At the back of the crowd, a young man stared at Jon Connington's body, his eyes filled with sorrow.

He was tall and thin, wearing a large linen cloak that covered most of his face, leaving only a strand of long blue hair visible.

The young man was none other than Aegon VI, the "Little Griffin."

Jon Clinton watched him grow up and took care of him like his own father.

Now, he witnessed with his own eyes the person he loved most being executed by Laharo, and the seeds of hatred had taken root in his heart.

He swore to avenge Jon!
Aegon took a deep breath, holding back the tears that were about to burst out, walked through the crowded crowd, and disappeared into the shadows of the street corner.

...

Rhallor was unaware that he had executed Jon Connington.

If you die, you die. Even if you know, you don’t care.

There will be countless enemies on the road to conquest. If you can stay, you will stay. If you can't stay, you will still be killed.

After the war, Rahalo returned to Illyrio's House of Governors, which had become his trophy and is now the House of Ra.

The House of La stood on the high ground north of the city. It was a square building made of light yellow granite, with round towers at the four corners guarding the four directions. The Unsullied on the towers had been cleared out and were now filled with Dothraki.

On either side of the main entrance stand two gigantic eagle statues, their beaks open and wings half-spread, as if ready to hunt at any moment.

The mansion is surrounded by meticulously trimmed hedges and spice gardens, and the air is filled with the scent of cinnamon and rosemary.

Laharo walked into the hall with Lazar, Mosso, Jhogo and a dozen warriors. The hall was already in ruins, with ebony carved furniture lying on the ground and porcelain and glass fragments everywhere. No one had cleaned it up yet.

All the previous servants have been dismissed, and no one knows who is still loyal to their old master, or who is Varys's little bird, so Rhallor plans to transfer slaves from Khalasari.

However, he couldn't care less about these things at the moment. The group went straight to the depths of the mansion, heading for Illyrio's vault.

Garlan Tyrell, holding a long sword, had been waiting at the entrance of the vault for a long time. Rhallor specifically asked him to guard here to prevent anyone from looting in the chaos.

In the battle of Hongmen Banquet, Garlan eliminated many soldiers of the Golden Company and Unsullied. The warriors knew that he had won the trust of Kaa, and no one offended him.

Laharo nodded to Garlan, who then opened the door, and everyone was stunned by the scene before them.

The mountains of gold, silver and treasures emitted a dazzling light, almost blinding the eyes of these Dothraki bumpkins.

"It's okay, let's take inventory."

Laharo spoke calmly, his expression unmoved, and he pretended to be impressive. He couldn't appear so ignorant in front of the richest man in the Reach, the wealthy Garlan.

In fact, Garland had never seen so much gold, silver and treasures. He was dumbfounded and his eyes were bigger than Laharo's.

It’s still easier to make money by robbing!

(End of this chapter)