When Drogo fled, only about a hundred Dothraki managed to follow him.
Viserys brought nearly all of his royal guard with him, while Arthur led several thousand Dragonriders.
Viserys sent word to Arthur, ordering him to surround the Sacred Mother Mountain and prevent Drogo from escaping.
anwhile, the seven to eight hundred royal guards remained close at his side, never leaving him for even a step.
With them, Viserys headed straight toward the Dothraki altar.
The Sacred Mother Mountain was not very tall, and its paths were wide enough for horses.
As they rode upward, Viserys observed the surroundings.
On both sides of the mountain road stood stone carvings, recording the achievents of past Dothraki khals.
Among them was a large section left blank, clearly newly cleared.
The na ant to be carved there would undoubtedly have been Drogo's. But whether he would still have the chance was another matter.
Soon, they reached a place resembling a ritual altar.
At its center stood a wooden platform, upon which rested a stone heart.
As the soldiers looked around in curiosity, soone appeared on a slope above them.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, his long hair flowing like a cloak behind him.
Blood dripped steadily from the curved blade in his hand.
"Stay alert!"
A captain of the guard shouted at the top of his lungs.
Viserys turned his head and imdiately recognized him.
It was Drogo.
Though sohow, his hair had grown back.
Viserys urged his horse forward, the guards parting to make way.
In their eyes, this young king was already sothing close to divine.
Not only did he possess strength beyond mortal limits, but he had also slain the monster they had all feared.
The terror they had once felt toward Drogo had now transford into unwavering reverence for Viserys.
"Bargo, are you enjoying this little act?"
Viserys called out loudly, deliberately provoking him.
For a god to be addressed so bluntly, it should not sit well.
He noticed that the fatal wound he had inflicted earlier was gone. Only a faint red mark remained on Drogo's chest.
"Valyrian steel... troubleso."
Drogo muttered.
Yet only Viserys heard those words.
The voice echoed directly in his mind, just like the communication he had once shared with Old Man of the River.
Drogo raised his blade and slashed downward.
In an instant, the surrounding world blurred.
Mountains, trees, plains—everything faded, as if they had been covered by a vast frosted glass do.
So this is the power of a god.
Viserys steadied himself and responded using the sa thod. "On Dragonstone... my mother, and Lyanna. Was that your doing?"
Drogo—no, Bargo—let out a cold laugh. "Your mother? You truly think of her as your mother?"
For a mont, Viserys felt as if he had been stripped bare.
The secret of his soul was the deepest thing he had hidden.
Yet the being before him did not press further. Instead, he pointed toward a fire that had appeared nearby.
A black iron pot sat above it.
Inside, a golden liquid shimred.
Molten gold.
"Viserys, you were never ant to wear a Valyrian steel crown. You were ant for a crown of molten gold. I will correct your fate."
Viserys let out a cold snort.
"Is that so? Good. I've been rather interested in your divine authority as well."
Drogo leapt down from the slope, his twin blades raised like the tusks of a beast.
The royal guards quickly ford a tight formation, surrounding Viserys.
Despite their fear, none of them stepped back.
Drogo looked at them without anger or contempt. To him, they were nothing more than reeds blocking his view.
He stood upright and swept his blade through the air.
In the next instant, the guards standing before Viserys collapsed all at once.
Viserys stared in shock.
But when he looked closer, he realized they were not dead. They looked as if they had simply fallen asleep.
He lifted his gaze toward Drogo again and saw sothing unexpected.
Even Drogo looked surprised.
"Why... why didn't it return?"
"Return?"
At that mont, Viserys received feedback.
He had gained hundreds of essences at once. Looking at the fallen guards, he realized the number matched exactly.
A thought flashed through his mind.
So that's it.
He imdiately redistributed the essences.
The fallen guards rose again, as if waking from a deep sleep.
Drogo's shock deepened.
"You... how is this possible?!"
He swept his blade again.
The guards collapsed once more. And again, Viserys absorbed their essence.
This ti, he redistributed even more power. Thousands of essences surged into the guards.
They stood again, stronger than before.
When Drogo struck again, the guards rely staggered.
They did not fall.
"Viserys... you're becoming more interesting by the mont." As he spoke, Drogo's body began to change.
His lower half transford into that of a horse.
A centaur.
Muscles rippled beneath his equine form, brimming with explosive power.
His curved blades suddenly seed too small for him.
He turned toward the altar and tore free a massive wooden beam, thick enough that several n together could barely wrap their arms around it.
"Viserys! Die!"
"Hold the line!"
A captain of the guard roared.
Even facing such a monster, none of them retreated. They only wanted to stand with their king.
But the gap between man and monster was undeniable.
The formation of nearly eight hundred guards was almost broken in a single charge.
With just one impact, more than a dozen guards were knocked unconscious, their Valyrian steel armor dented inward.
Viserys knew that if this continued, his entire guard would be wiped out.
Only he could match this strength.
As Drogo charged again with the massive beam, Viserys stepped forward.
He leapt out from the formation and caught the impact head-on.
The two of them strained against each other.
Faces flushed.
Muscles trembling.
"Kill him!"
The guards surged in, surrounding Drogo.
They thrust their Valyrian steel spears forward with all their strength.
Golden-red divine blood flowed along the shafts, spilling freely.
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