407 Chapter 407: The First Battle of the Allied Forces

Year 293 AC.

Since the retreat of the White Walkers on New Year's Day of 293 AC, a group of Dothraki horsemen were the first to engage in battle with the White Walkers who were gradually emerging from the Neck in the new year.

"Yahhh—"

The Dothraki, riding on horseback, let out a screech that was even more piercing than the wights'. They then scattered barrels of oil from their horses onto the ground and threw torches to ignite the oil, successfully disrupting the formation of the army of the dead.

Thud, thud, thud—

Then, a volley of arrows pierced through the sea of fire and fell into the army of the dead, cutting down countless wights like wheat.

The army of the dead was different from humans, as Viserys had told Khal Qhogo not to use tactics meant for humans.

Humans fear and dread, and often a less elite force would be demoralized by a single charge from the Dothraki, leading to chaos and then being mercilessly harvested by the Dothraki.

But wights were different. Wights knew neither fatigue nor fear. A head-on collision with wights was undoubtedly a suicidal act. Even if the cavalry relied on their sturdy armor, they would be wiped out if they charged in.

Therefore, the Dothraki adopted a more flexible and changeable approach when dealing with wights.

They used the hunting tactics they would only use during hunts, constantly driving and luring the army of wights. After all, wights only had two legs and couldn't run as fast as horses, and they didn't use bows and arrows.

Then they used oil to set traps to lure these brainless wights, set them on fire, and burned them to ashes, just like how the Dothraki would drive and lure beasts into traps when hunting on the plains.

Whoosh~

A huge fire ignited in an instant.

The Dothraki, riding on horseback, held the reins in one hand and raised their arakhs high in the other under the bright sunlight.

They let out sharp howls like wolves, watching as the wights fell into the sea of fire, their gray-brown fur fluttering slightly in the cold wind.

After an unknown amount of time, the fire burned out, leaving the ground charred and only a little flame left.

Then, facing the last few wights that they had surrounded and reduced to a small number, the Dothraki gave up their bows and arrows and chose to charge in one fell swoop.

"Ohharat!"

Khal Qhogo, clad in a fur armor, gave the order to charge in Dothraki, intending to crush these wights. The Dothraki were in high spirits.

Rumble, rumble—

Then, accompanied by the thunderous sound of horse hooves, dust and snow flew up.

Clang, clang, clang—

Countless arakhs were drawn and raised high, reflecting a chilling light in the sunlight, then they fell lightly, directly cutting off the heads of the wights.

And they trampled their bodies into pieces with their horse hooves. The arakhs harvested heads, the horse hooves caused chaos, and the remaining hundreds of wights were all trampled into powder by the chaotic iron hooves.

Among the wights, the leader was a White Walker with white hair and beard.

He was tall, clad in ice-blue armor, wielding an ice sword, and had killed several Dothraki horsemen. A rusted sigil of the Stark direwolf was pinned to his chest.

Looking at the humans charging again, his deep blue eyes were terrifying, and he let out a screeching roar like ice cracking.

"Screech—"

Then he was killed by Khal Qhogo's skillful horseback move.

He tightly clamped his legs around the horse's belly and then suddenly leaned out. From a distance, it looked like he was about to fall to the ground, but his legs were still tightly clamping the horse's belly, preventing him from falling.

"Ogat!"

Khal Qhogo dodged the White Walker's sword with this move, roared in Dothraki for him to die, and then swung his sword backhand directly at the White Walker's neck.

Boom—

The Valyrian steel arakh directly cut into the White Walker's neck. The creature didn't even let out a scream before its body exploded, scattering into a sky full of ice shards.

Clang—

The direwolf sigil on his chest also fell to the ground.

Seeing Khal Qhogo kill the White Walker with his ancestral Valyrian steel arakh, the watching Dothraki let out cheers, stirring up the atmosphere.

They worship the strong.

Although Khal Qhogo was the bloodrider appointed by Khal, the tribesmen he could command were not due to Viserys' arrangement, but because his strength was recognized by the tribesmen.

Kill the fiercest man, ride the fiercest horse.

The Khal rode the most powerful horse in the tribe, Viserys rode a dragon, naturally no one could compete, and Khal Qhogo's horse was second only to Viserys' in the tribe.

Of course, this is not counting Khaleesi.

Because of the war years ago, Daenerys, riding Qhogon, burned the Dothraki, which scared them. Therefore, the Dothraki who later surrendered to Viserys recognized Daenerys as their Khaleesi.

After killing the White Walker, Khal Qhogo sat on his horse, his chest heaving slightly as he panted.

But he held the arakh in one hand and then spread his arms, exposing his strong chest without any defense.

Khal Qhogo showed his bravery to the surrounding tribesmen and listened to their cheers and worship.

At the same time, Khal Qhogo also roared in the obscure Dothraki language, which brought even louder cheers.

"Roar, roar, roar!"

All the Dothraki raised their arakhs and let out deafening howls.

It was like a wild dance of demons.

But this was the most real living environment for the Dothraki, a nomadic tribe that did not produce and specialized in plundering. Their life theme was nothing but killing and copulating.

The Dothraki were holding a victory celebration, but Eddard Stark and Stannis, who were not far away, felt a bit of a chill.

The two turned their heads and looked at each other.

"These barbarians... are too terrifying."

"I have no doubt that killing us would be just a simple post-meal exercise for these savages."

Eddard frowned, his tone somewhat heavy.

Stannis's face was equally gloomy, but he remained silent.

He had already figured it out. If the Targaryens wanted to invade Westeros, the first stop would definitely be Dragonstone.

Losing it sooner or later was still a loss. Thinking about it this way, he felt a lot better.

And Khal Qhogo was their leader, which was the basis for their cooperation and also political. Khal Qhogo accepted this appointment on behalf of Viserys. The two needed to lead the cavalry of the Seven Kingdoms to fight alongside the Dothraki.

Today, they detected a small-scale army of the dead, so the two brought their guards to learn and observe. They didn

't expect to see such a terrifying scene.

The Dothraki annihilated this small-scale army of the dead with minimal losses.

Each of them was so skilled in horsemanship that they were among the best in the allied cavalry.

At this time.

Khal Qhogo rode his horse over with a translator, said a few words in Dothraki, which were then translated into the Common Tongue. Eddard nodded in response.

It was probably asking if they understood the Dothraki's tactics.

"This, for you."

After getting an affirmative answer, Khal Qhogo also nodded slightly.

Then he took out the Stark direwolf sigil that had fallen from the White Walker just now and threw it to Eddard.

"I see it's similar to the thing on your chest, it might be of some use to you."

Thud—

Eddard reached out and caught the sigil thrown at him from mid-air.

He was a bit puzzled at first, but his face changed drastically when he opened his palm.