Khal Ronan

The scene before Ronan proved the difficulty. If he had not obtained Khal Drogo's absolute loyalty, Drogo would not have turned his blade so readily against his own people.

Conquering one man was simple. Conquering a whole race was difficult. One man's strength was limited, and brief loyalty could not become trust by itself.

Khal Borro was both furious and helpless before Drogo's determination. He understood the strength of his own khalasar.

From the moment he chose resistance, he knew death was almost certain. But he refused to bow.

The future of the Dothraki should be decided by Dothraki, not by an outsider and his mercenary company.

Drogo looked at Borro's defiant face without much pity. His principle had always been simple. Submit or die. There were only two choices.

He had no time to listen to explanations. The weak had no right to explain. Dothraki believed only in the strong.

And the strongest man Drogo believed in was Ronan. When Borro died, his bloodriders followed.

Borro's bloodriders were seasoned warriors, but Drogo butchered them so savagely that even a horse's death would have seemed clean.

Looking down at his fallen kin, Drogo felt a rare trace of mercy. The men he offered it to did not know how to be grateful. The result was naturally cruel.

By the battle's end, all thirty thousand of Borro's warriors lay dead. That battle established Khal Drogo's supreme position.

It also witnessed the beginning of a new age.

...

An hour later, cooking smoke rose over ground that had recently been chaos. On grass still stained with corpses and blood, tents had been raised across the field.

Inside the largest and richest tent, the powerful khal sat below the seat of honor while his commanders lined both sides.

This meeting with Drogo was partly to test his attitude. More importantly, it was to witness the system's power. Things had not gone as Ronan feared.

Not only Drogo, but also the warriors behind him treated Ronan with great respect as the greatest khal. Ronan relaxed.

When he raised his cup, the atmosphere of the feast came alive at once. Dance, fighting, slaughter, and brutal desire filled the feast.

For the first time, Ronan truly experienced Dothraki culture and custom. He did not plan to change them in the short term. There was no need.

What existed had reasons for existing. Old sicknesses could not be cured in a single stroke.

Because Ronan was present, some of the crueller entertainments did not appear. Drogo seemed to understand that his khal disliked them.

He also noticed that Khal Ronan did like certain other things. That reminded Drogo of a gift from a city magister.

He did not particularly care for those soft and powerless women himself, but that did not mean he had no interest at all. At least they were beautiful.

Khal Ronan would probably like those pretty city women. When Drogo made the suggestion in passing, Khal Ronan agreed without hesitation.

He even decided to go with Drogo to that city. There was a trace of urgency in his tone, though careless Drogo failed to notice it.

After one night, the vast army advanced toward that city. The enormous column was terrifying to see, and it consumed an astonishing amount of food.

More than a hundred thousand people needed to eat, not counting their animals. Fortunately, most of them were warriors. Traveling with purpose spared unnecessary waste.

Their arrival frightened the lords and magistrates along the route. As the man receiving them, Illyrio felt his stomach tighten.

He had not expected Drogo's trouble to be solved so easily. A dark sea of soldiers lingered near Pentos. It would have been a lie to say the magisters were not nervous.

If the Dothraki attacked recklessly, no one dared promise Pentos would not fall. The fact that Drogo sent someone ahead to greet them proved enough.

Seeing that his great plan might succeed, Illyrio could not care about anything else. He hurriedly prepared food and supplies to receive the warriors who had come from afar.

His most important guests received the best treatment first. Illyrio might be only one magister of a Free City, but his ability to arrange affairs was not poor.

Wine, food, women, treasure - whatever Drogo wanted, Illyrio had no intention of refusing. In return, what Illyrio expected also passed smoothly through Drogo's approval. Only Drogo's attitude left Illyrio uncertain.

"Khal Drogo, did you just say you mean to give Princess Daenerys to someone else?"

"Is there a problem?"

Illyrio smiled awkwardly and did not dare answer directly. When had this savage's mind become so sharp? He even knew how to send gifts.

Still, giving away a person disrupted Illyrio's plan. If Drogo did not accept Daenerys himself, what meaning did the Targaryen alliance have?

Illyrio did not dare question Drogo openly. He could only ask with a polite smile, "May I know what lord could move Khal Drogo to such generosity?"

Drogo glared at him and did not answer. Instead, he confirmed the important point again.

"You have said many times that this princess is beautiful. Is it true?"

"Of course. On this point, Illyrio would not dare lie."

Illyrio thought Drogo had changed his mind.

x

x

x

If you're enjoying the story so far, consider supporting me on Patreon ❤️
You'll get weekly early access to chapters, along with some exclusive content:

https://www.patreon.com/cw/auroraclairevale