While Westeros was in turmoil, interesting things were also happening across the Narrow Sea.
On this vast grassland, a massive khalasar was slowly moving. Tens of thousands of riders, a hundred thousand horses, and countless cattle and sheep swept across the land like a tide.
This was Khal Drogo's khalasar… the largest and strongest among the Dothraki.
At this mont, inside the golden tent at the center of the procession, the atmosphere was suffocatingly heavy.
Months earlier, a farce had taken place here.
Viserys Targaryen, the self-proclaid "True Dragon King," had finally t his end.
He had waited bitterly for the Khal's army, but it never ca. His sister Daenerys, the little girl he used to bully at will, had now beco the "Khaleesi" and no longer feared him.
So he decided to take a desperate gamble: steal the dragon eggs and sell them for money to buy his own army.
After all, dragon eggs were now extrely valuable. That rchant nad Luke Jaqenion was offering a fortune for them.
Unfortunately, his sister caught him.
Viserys, driven by malice, grabbed Daenerys and pressed a dagger to her belly, threatening the Khal:
"Give an army! Or I'll kill her and the child in her womb!"
Khal Drogo looked at him with terrifying calm.
Then he smiled.
"I will give you a crown, Viserys."
Viserys thought he had submitted.
But the crown the Khal spoke of was made by lting gold on the spot.
Molten gold was poured over Viserys's head.
His scream was cut short.
Viserys Targaryen died beneath a "golden crown."
Daenerys stared at her brother's corpse and murmured in a daze:
"He was not the true dragon. Because true dragons are not afraid of fire."
Not long after, Daenerys was the target of an assassination attempt.
Although the assassin was killed, it completely enraged Khal Drogo.
He officially declared that he would attack Westeros and seize the Iron Throne for the child about to be born.
From then on, this great Dothraki horde began burning, killing, and plundering everywhere. They raided villages, seized grain, and cut down timber, intending to build ships to cross the sea.
However, fate was never smooth.
One day, while the khalasar was heading toward its next target for plunder, Khal Drogo suddenly swayed on his horse.
Then he fell from his mount.
The entire procession ca to a halt.
All eyes fell on the figure lying on the ground: their Khal, the mighty Drogo, had fallen from his horse?
A rider trotted forward and looked down at Drogo on the ground. His na was Cohollo, the second-in-command of the khalasar, and he had long harbored resentnt toward Drogo's leadership.
His voice was unquestionable:
"No Khal has ever fallen from his horse. He is no longer Khal."
Daenerys rushed forward, shielding her husband.
"He is just tired!"
Cohollo looked at her with cold eyes.
"Khaleesi, the rules are the rules."
The procession was forced to stop. Drogo remained unconscious.
More and more people began whispering. In recent days, Drogo had grown increasingly weak and had fallen from his horse several tis. The lesser khals were already showing signs of wanting to seize power by force. The mood of the horde was restless, and undercurrents were surging.
Daenerys was plunged into an unprecedented crisis.
Her husband was her support. Now that her husband had fallen, what was she to do?
Not only was revenge now hopeless, it seed she was about to lose her status as Khaleesi.
At that mont, a voice spoke.
"Khaleesi, I can heal him."
Daenerys turned and saw Mirri Maz Duur… the witch she had saved during a raid.
The woman claid to be a priestess from the Lhazareen region, skilled in herbs and sorcery. Earlier, when the Khal had been wounded in combat, it was this witch who had helped treat him.
Daenerys clutched at her like a drowning person grabbing driftwood.
"Can you save him? Can you really save him?"
Mirri's face showed a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"This is blood magic, Khaleesi. Only death can pay for life."
Inside the golden tent, the blood magic ritual was underway.
Mirri killed Drogo's most beloved warhorse. The mighty red stallion collapsed, its blood flowing and soaking the ground.
She began chanting a spell. The sound was eerie and desolate, as if coming from another world.
She demanded that everyone leave the tent and not look inside.
Daenerys stood outside the tent, both hands pressed tightly against her belly. A new life was growing there — the child of her and Drogo, her hope for the future.
She saw the horse die.
She thought she had paid the price of "death."
What she didn't know was that another death was happening inside the tent at the sa ti.
When Daenerys woke again, she found herself lying in the tent.
Drogo lay beside her.
His eyes were open.
But there was nothing in those eyes.
He did not move, did not speak, did not think. He simply lay there, breathing, alive — yet no longer the mighty Khal Drogo who had once shaken the grasslands.
He had beco an empty shell.
Daenerys froze.
Then she felt a sharp pain in her belly.
She looked down. Blood had soaked her skirts.
Her belly had deflated, but what ca out was a stillborn child!
Daenerys let out a heart-wrenching scream.
She staggered out of the tent and found Mirri.
"You lied to !" She grabbed the witch by the shoulders and shook her wildly. "You lied! You promised that if I paid with death for life, he would get better!"
Mirri looked at her with terrifying calm.
"I did not lie. He did co back."
"But that… that isn't him!" Daenerys's tears poured out. "That's just an empty shell! And my child… my child…"
Mirri spoke slowly.
"You warned : only death can pay for life. I thought you ant the horse."
"No."
Mirri Maz Duur looked at her and spoke word by word:
"You deceived yourself. You already knew the price."
Daenerys was stunned.
She rembered Mirri's words: "Only death can pay for life."
She had thought that killing one horse would be enough.
But deep in her heart, she had known it was impossible.
She had simply… wanted too desperately to save Drogo.
"Why?" Her voice trembled. "Why did you do this?"
For the first ti, real emotion appeared in Mirri's eyes.
It was hatred, pain, and venom accumulated over countless days and nights.
"My village was massacred by your Dothraki. I watched the villagers and children I cared for die one by one. I was gang-raped by your Dothraki. One after another, one after another…"
Her voice was calm — terrifyingly calm.
"Did you think I would forget?"
Daenerys collapsed to the ground.
Mirri looked down at her, a mad smile curling her lips.
"Hahaha… Blood magic could only bring Drogo 'back.' But I never said in what form."
Daenerys gritted her teeth. "Seize her!"
The guards imdiately restrained the witch. Mirri didn't even try to resist — she just kept laughing maniacally: "When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then you will have a child again! Hahaha~"
Daenerys knelt on the ground, clutching her belly, crying silently.
Beside her lay a speechless living corpse and a stillborn child.
Ahead of her stretched the vast grasslands and an unknown fate.
The wind rose.
The waves of grass on the Dothraki Sea rolled endlessly into the distance.
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