svetikya Chapter 79: The Wind Blows! Leading the Way!
Chapter 79: The Wind Blows! Leading the Way!
Not far from G. Doho, Viserys did not see the Wind and Cloud Legion and his Windmane White Cloud Legion waiting to greet him. Instead, he only found out from the scouts that his army had run into a legion camp of two thousand men.
"Who is willing to find out for me whether the other side is friend or foe?"
On his pristine white warhorse, Viserys, clad in magnificent armor, wearing a dragon-winged helmet and sporting flowing silver hair, surveyed his surroundings.
"Your Majesty, I am willing to investigate whether the other side is friend or foe!"
The burly man Beves, who had not yet accomplished anything, eagerly stepped forward to volunteer.
"This is not something a legion commander should do."
Viserys shook his head in disapproval.
"Your Majesty, I am willing to go!"
Jorah Mormont, the Kingsguard and honorary commander-in-chief of the White Robes, and Roland, the Grand Master of the Kingsguard, stepped forward simultaneously, hands on their chests, to volunteer.
"The gods praise your courage!"
The king nodded in agreement.
Ser Jorah and Roland, the leader of the white-robed men, rode forward together, followed by more than twenty white-robed men, carrying dragon banners, heading straight for the camp opposite.
Most of the tents in the camp were made of huge blue canvas, and the surrounding wooden fortifications and barricades were well-made, showing that the commander was an expert.
Jorah looked up and saw the enemy's flag clearly: a blue and white cross-tailed banner. Having once mingled in trading cities, Jorah recognized the legion at a glance.
The wind blows the ball!
"They are the Wind Blowing Group. It is said that this mercenary group has around two thousand infantry and cavalry, making them a military force not to be underestimated."
Before they got close to the enemy camp, Jorah turned back to Roland and said something.
"Whoever dares to block the true dragon, I will slay them! The gods bear witness!" Roland's eyes blazed with intense light.
Imagine single-handedly storming the enemy camp, possibly even having the chance to kill the enemy general—that's nothing short of heroic!
"Don't come near! This is the Wind Blowing Gang's base!"
Upon arriving at the camp, rows of archers were already waiting behind the wooden fence and barricades.
"Flat Bean" Bucky, with his slanted eyes and crossbow in hand, shouted at the group of flamboyant knights in front of him.
Behind this Myr man, Lewis Lanster, the Windbringer's best archer, had already tied his bowstring, ready to strike any of the White Knights before him at any moment.
"The banner before you represents the blood of the true dragons, son of Aerys II and brother of Rhaegar Targaryen."
Prince of Dragonstone, the rightful king of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.
Protector of all seven kingdoms, brother of Stormborn, and the sole rightful heir to the Iron Throne.
"King of Pentos, King of the Plains, King of Goldoho and the Velvet Mountains, His Majesty Viserys III of the Targaryen Dynasty!"
Bucky and Lewis Lanster looked at each other in bewilderment.
They certainly knew who the visitors were. Their own commander had led them down the road to block the way, seemingly intending to have a talk with them.
Although they were mentally prepared, Sir Jorah's long and complex sentences still intimidated the two inexperienced mercenary leaders.
"Let them in!"
A deep female voice came from behind the two of them.
The two men couldn't help but shudder and quickly ordered their men to pull back the barricades, while simultaneously trying to keep themselves from turning around to look at the approaching people.
"Beauty" Meris, a female mercenary who is nearly six feet tall and whose appearance has nothing to do with beauty, is the interrogator of the Wind Blowing Squad.
This female mercenary with long blonde hair had her nose torn off, and beneath her flowing hair was a missing ear. Her face was covered with crisscrossing cross-shaped scars.
That's a truly frightening woman.
Jorah rode into the camp under the other party's cold gaze, followed closely by Commander Roland and a group of white-robed men.
The Wind Blowing Group was established only about thirty years ago.
The current commander, who was also the first commander, Prince Rags, is over sixty years old.
When Jorah saw him, his first impression was that the man was too old.
A hero grows old.
The ragged prince had long, silver-gray hair, and his armor was also silver-gray. When he led Jorah and his party into the tent, he opened his huge eye bags and revealed a sorrowful look.
He's always like that.
Despite his advanced age, the ragged prince still sat upright and dignified.
Behind him stood two men, one very tall and with a scarred face. The other was Kago, nicknamed "The Corpse Slayer," an old soldier who looked about the same age as the Prince of Raggedy, but much more weathered.
Danzo Dehan, people called him the warrior poet.
Both of them were the right-hand men of the ragged prince.
"Hey you, state your name!"
The ragged prince's voice was very loud, and it was clear that he was still capable of riding a horse and fighting on the battlefield.
A white-robed figure holding a dragon banner stood behind Jorah, and Sir Bear began once again to introduce the titles of his king.
The ragged prince listened quietly without interrupting, saying there wasn't enough room for so many people.
"I am Jorah Mormont of House Mormont, a member of His Majesty's Kingsguard in the North of Westeros."
"I am Roland, the captain of the Royal Guard!"
"We have come to inquire whether you are friend or foe, and why you have set up camp in the road to obstruct our army's advance."
Jorah placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and said seriously.
No one asked him to disarm when he entered. Jorah glanced at the group of mercenary leaders in the tent. It seemed that these people were confident that even if he suddenly attacked inside the tent, they could subdue them.
snort!
My Iron Guard is unmatched!
"What if they are friends? What if they are enemies?"
The ragged prince slowly opened his mouth and asked.
"If you are a friend, please make way. If you are willing to fight for my king, wealth, status, and honor are within your grasp."
Jorah paused for a moment and said:
"If you insist on being my king's enemy, the ten thousand troops behind me will regard you as a mortal foe. Your mere two thousand men will be nothing but ashes in the wind under the iron hooves of my army and the wrath of my soldiers, vanishing without a trace in an instant!"
As Jorah finished speaking, both sides slowly placed their hands on the hilts of their swords at their waists, and the atmosphere inside the tent became tense, as if a close-quarters brawl could break out at any moment.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
The ragged prince also looked very serious. He stared at Jorah for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.
"Our Wind Chaser Order has no intention of being enemies with His Majesty Viserys."
"Then please make way!" Jo Ramen nodded calmly without changing his expression.
Roland, who was standing to the side, had already drawn his sword halfway, but upon hearing this, he angrily returned the sword.
"Before clearing the way, I ask the knight to return and explain to His Majesty that our Windblown Company has refused the Braavos's offer of service. May His Majesty ask if he would be willing to pay a small fee to employ our Windblown Company?"
"My Wind Blowing Legion is willing to fight for His Majesty!" The ragged prince finished speaking.
"The Wind Blows! Let's be pioneers!"
Inside the tent, the mercenary leaders roared in unison.