A gentle breeze swept across the Velvet Hills, where the rolling terrain was perfectly suited for cavalry maneuvers.
Viserys's armor was as black as the Long Night. He wore a cloak emblazoned with the red dragon on black, fastened at the shoulder with a clasp of red garnet shaped like a dragon in flight.
At his waist hung a longsword and a Valyrian steel dagger with a dragonbone hilt. A lance rested in the crook of his arm.
His mount was the Dothraki stallion he had spirited away from the Sealord's menagerie in Braavos. No longer confined to a cage, the black courser now galloped freely across the battlefield, snorting with excitement.
Dothraki horses were large, powerful beasts built for the charge—prized mounts, distinctly different from the smaller, enduring sand steeds of Dorne.
Viserys donned his helm, a fearsome piece of black steel adorned with red dragon wings. In it, he looked less like a mortal man and more like a dragon in human form.
His first excursion into Rhoynar territory was not a raid, but a mission of liberation. He had been invited by the Rhoynar themselves to clear out bandits as a condition of their fealty.
A group of Rhoynar renegades had thrown in their lot with Dothraki deserters, raiding local villages.
Among the Dothraki, slaughter was a point of pride. Smaller khalasars were often wiped out by larger ones, and the survivors frequently turned to banditry or sellsword work to survive.
"Cross the river!" Viserys cracked his whip and spurred his horse forward, leading the charge. The cavalry, bearing the banner of the three-headed dragon, thundered after him.
The stream they crossed was small, winding through the hills, yet crossing it felt momentous. For the Andals, this was their first military operation deep within Rhoynar territory.
Riding alongside Viserys were not only Andals, but also native Rhoynar.
These men hailed from the border villages where Andal and Rhoynar lands met. Their elders had attended Viserys's coronation, and now their sons rode under his banner.
Most of these Rhoynar soldiers shared Rhaenys's look: slender builds, smooth olive skin, black hair, and dark eyes. Others were of mixed blood, looking more like Andals.
Generations of trade, marriage, and conflict had blended the peoples of the borderlands. After witnessing the rise of Viserys Fort and the grandeur of the coronation, many border Rhoynar had chosen to cast their lot with Andalos.
The ancient princes and princesses of the Rhoynar had been obliterated by the Dragonlords of Valyria long ago, save for Nymeria who fled to Dorne. The scattered survivors living in villages were, like the Andals, victims of bullying by every major power in Essos.
Situated closer to the Dothraki Sea and Volantis, the Rhoynar suffered the heaviest blows. Compared to the brutal horselords, the hateful Volantenes, and the greedy slavers of the Three Daughters, the Andals seemed the least of evils. Following Andalos was certainly better than serving the Dothraki.
"Your Grace!" Garin, a Rhoynar rider, pulled up beside Viserys. "The bandits are in the village ahead. They destroyed this Rhoynar settlement and now use it as a base to extort supplies and women from the surrounding Andal villages."
Garin had soft, flowing hair but moved with lethal agility. He was a master of the spear.
He was the first Rhoynar knight to swear fealty to Viserys, and Viserys had named him Commander of the newly formed Second Legion, "The Old Rhoynar" cavalry.
Historically, the Rhoynar excelled as spear-throwers and river-borne marines. Once he had secured the Rhoyne, Viserys planned to utilize these traditional strengths. In their golden age, the Rhoynar had fought in silver-scaled armor with fish-helmets, wielding spears and turtle-shell shields.
"Enemy sighted!" Viserys raised his Myrish lens. He spotted smoke rising from the ruins of a village nestled in the hills. Horses were tethered in the woods nearby.
The bandits had made this their lair. It would be their tomb.
"Garin, take your spear-throwers and cut off their retreat. Let none escape," Viserys commanded.
"At once, Your Grace!" Garin vowed. He had long burned to kill these traitors to his people and the Dothraki scum they ran with. He had only lacked the strength until now.
The Dothraki reputation for savagery was usually enough to cow any village into submission. But not today.
Viserys kicked his black stallion into a gallop. The horse surged forward like a black hurricane sweeping across the plains. The black-armored cavalry coalesced around their King, a sharp wedge of steel.
"Kill them all! Leave no one standing!" Viserys roared as they crashed into the enemy. The thunder of hooves and the gleam of black armor filled the air.
"Enemy attack!"
"Riders!"
The bandit sentries were dropped by arrows before they could raise a proper alarm. Their makeshift watchtower was low and offered little warning.
These bandits, accustomed to terrorizing peasants with their Dothraki muscle, never expected the Rhoynar to strike back with such ferocity.
But as the attackers closed in, they realized these were not mere villagers.
Viserys's lance struck with lethal precision. He impaled a stunned Rhoynar bandit, the force of the charge lifting the man off his feet before Viserys hurled the corpse to the ground.
There was no fancy technique here—just raw power and speed. Viserys's physical attributes were overwhelming.
Thud. The sound of the body hitting the earth signaled the beginning of the slaughter.
"The Warrior!"
"The Warrior!"
"Long live King Viserys!"
Andal knights, seven-pointed stars painted on their faces, roared in triumph. Adrenaline surged through their veins as they reveled in the feast of battle.
Viserys's Dragon Dragoons were better armored, better trained, and led by warriors like Viserys and Aggo. They had caught the enemy completely unprepared. The battle quickly turned into a massacre.
"Mother Rhoyne protects her children!"
"Long live King Viserys!"
"Kill the bandits! Kill the traitors and the horselord bastards!"
The Rhoynar spear-throwers, having encircled the perimeter, unleashed hell. Their bodies uncoiled like springs as they hurled their weapons.
Rhoynar spears came in two varieties: short throwing spears for cavalry, and longer javelins for infantry. At close range, the heavy points were devastating. A rain of steel fell upon the bandits.
Many brigands, caught without armor or weapons, were skewered where they stood. A crimson rain soaked the earth.
"Die! Armor-wearing coward!" A tall Dothraki screamer with almond eyes and bronze skin roared, charging Viserys with an arakh.
He had identified Viserys as the leader—the shining armor, the fine horse, the guards.
Viserys had already discarded his dulled lance and drawn his longsword.
His blade moved with blinding speed. The Dothraki warrior's eyes widened in shock; this slender, armored demon was unnaturally fast.
Viserys dodged the sweeping arc of the arakh with fluid grace, his own sword striking like a viper. The blade bit deep into the Dothraki's chest and belly, shearing through flesh and bone.
"Coward!" the Dothraki cursed as he fell, his insides spilling out like eels.
Viserys didn't waste breath on words. A second strike opened the Dothraki's throat.
[ "Fate-Reverser" Viserys Targaryen has executed multiple "Evildoers" in battle. Reward: Base Attribute Increase. Strength ↑, Agility ↑ ]
Seeing his stats rise, Viserys knew he had come to the right place.
"Kill them!" Viserys commanded. The bloody battlefield washed away any mercy.
His soldiers, having suffered long enough under the tyranny of such men, showed no quarter. The camp became a stage of blood and fire.
"Plant my banner! Slaughter them all."
The red dragon banner flew high over the ruins. The sounds of resistance grew fainter.
Finally, the last few Rhoynar collaborators and Dothraki holdouts were smoked out from behind a stone wall. They were dragged out and bound together.
From within the camp came the sound of weeping—Rhoynar women and girls who had been taken captive.
"Any last words?" Viserys asked the prisoners.
"You are traitors to the Rhoynar! Licking the boots of the Andals!" a Rhoynar bandit spat.
Garin sneered. "What is wrong with serving King Viserys? I am a man of both Andalos and the Rhoynar. The King has established the Second Legion to restore the glory of the Rhoyne. It is far better than serving sheep-fucking Dothraki savages like you."
The bandit fell silent, unable to retort.
The Dothraki captives looked bewildered but defiant, refusing to kneel. They knew surrender was pointless; they had killed too many Rhoynar. Like the Ironborn, the Dothraki were social Darwinists to the core—beasts who respected only strength.
Viserys waved his hand, signaling Garin to step aside. These men were his experience points. Notorious villains, every one of them.
Aggo and Garin forced the bandits' heads down onto a massive dead tree root. The Rhoynar bandits began to curse Viserys Targaryen's name with vile insults.
"Spawn of the Dragon!"
"Khal Drogo will kill you! You are nothing before the Khal!"
"Perhaps," Viserys said calmly. "Or perhaps my sword will taste Drogo's blood."
His sword rose and fell. Cold light flashed, followed by the dull thud of heads hitting the ground.
The tree root drank its fill of blood, and the earth thirsty for justice drank the rest.
"Motherland, willing or unwilling, I come to you, for I have always loved you," Viserys murmured, reciting a line of poetry as he surveyed the carnage. The bandit gang had been utterly annihilated.
He removed his winged dragon helm and rested his hands on the pommel of his sword, the blade planted in the earth, blood still slick on the steel.
His armor and cloak were stained with dust and the stench of enemy blood.
The sun shone on his short silver hair and handsome face. He stood like a statue of a hero from the Age of Heroes, a god of war made flesh.
Behind him, the bandit lair burned. The ground was littered with severed heads and bodies bristling with arrows and spears.
"Long live King Viserys!"
"Long live King Viserys!"
The Andals, the Rhoynar soldiers, and even the rescued women fell to their knees, chanting the King's name in a frenzy of adoration.