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"Hurry, faster, just a little faster, and I will be able to join up with that group of ugly savages!"
"Damn that cursed Evil dragon! I have already led Myr to surrender to you!"
"Why must you still force me to rebel?"
As he looked at the Dothraki riders drawing closer and closer, Magister Moser's mind was filled with a chaotic storm of thoughts.
As a clever and successful merchant, even though he had been forced by Jacaerys' series of mad strategies into taking up arms, he still strove to maximize his own benefits.
On the surface, he appeared to be planning the assassination together with the other magisters of Myr, but in secret, he had already established contact with the Faceless Men and the Dothraki.
If the Faceless Men succeeded in assassinating Jacaerys, Magister Moser would allow these Dothraki riders to enter Myr and help him eliminate his rivals.
The Dothraki were a nomadic people and could never stay in one place for long. Once they plundered enough gold, treasures, and women, they would naturally leave.
At that time, Magister Moser would become the sole ruler of Myr.
On the other hand, if the assassination failed, as it had now, these Dothraki would serve as his escape route.
The magisters of the Free Cities were all as cunning as foxes. No matter which city they fled to, they would be able to live comfortably.
Just as Magister Moser was about to join the Khalasar ahead of him, he noticed that the faces of the leading Dothraki warriors, who had been shouting excitedly, suddenly froze in mid-expression.
It could not be...
A chilling thought that he did not wish to face surfaced immediately in Magister Moser's mind.
WHOOSH, WHOOSH!
HOOAH!!!
A terrifying sound of dragon wings flapping came from overhead, making Magister Moser's heart pound wildly. In the next instant, a deadly jet of dark gray dragonfire exploded right among the ranks of the Dothraki cavalry.
WHINNY~~!!!
The Dothraki riders, who had been lined up neatly, were turned into blackened charred corpses along with their horses, forming a scorched path directly aligned with the low-flying dark green dragon.
The surrounding warhorses, feeling the overwhelming presence of the dragon for the first time, panicked and began whinnying frantically, scattering in chaos.
The Dothraki's charge formation instantly fell apart, with horses crashing into one another in the chaos.
Some of the younger, less experienced Dothraki riders, caught off guard, were thrown from their mounts and immediately trampled into a bloody pulp by the horses behind them.
Scenes like this, where Dothraki lost control of their horses, were extremely rare among a people who were practically born in the saddle and lived every day alongside their steeds.
Yet even so, the Dothraki lived up to their reputation as one of the fiercest warrior cultures of Essos.
Their ability to adapt on the battlefield was formidable. Despite the chaos, they quickly reformed their lines and launched a counterattack against the dark green dragon.
WHOOSH, WHOOSH, WHOOSH!
CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!
Arrows, shot with uncanny precision, flew toward the eyes of the speeding dragon, aiming for its most vulnerable spot. However, each arrow was effortlessly deflected by the vertical eyelids that the dragon had instinctively lowered.
Horsemanship and archery were the two great pillars upon which the Dothraki's dominance of Essos rested.
Seeing that their attacks against the dragon were ineffective, some of the Dothraki even stood up on their galloping horses, trying to find a better angle to shoot at the dragon rider perched on its back.
WHOOSH, WHOOSH!
The dragon's wings flapped violently, stirring up powerful gusts of wind that completely disrupted the arrows' flight paths.
The dragon rider did not even need to dodge. Not a single arrow could come close to threatening him.
WHOOSH!!!
Just as the dragon's wingbeats returned to a steady rhythm, a cold arrow, hidden like a venomous serpent waiting in a cave, suddenly shot toward the dragon rider in a deadly sneak attack.
CLANG!!!
The sharp arrow struck the dragon rider squarely in the forehead, but instead of piercing flesh, it bounced away as if it had struck solid iron.
The dragon rider, whose head had been forced slightly backward by the impact, slowly lowered his gaze, completely unscathed, looking in the direction from which the cold arrow had come.
"Witch! Demon!"
"Return to the Dothraki Sea! Return to the shelter of the horse god!"
"This is not a sacred battle! We need not cut off our braids in shame!"
The Khal of this Khalasar, having seen with his own eyes how the dragon rider had effortlessly shrugged off the deadly shot with nothing but his forehead, cried out in terror in the Dothraki tongue, issuing the order to retreat.
WHINNY~~
The order swiftly spread throughout the Khalasar.
The Dothraki riders, with superb skill, brought their horses to a sudden halt and turned them around in perfect coordination.
Unlike the tight formations of their initial charge, their retreat scattered them to the four winds, seeming chaotic but in truth, highly organized.
It was a perfect embodiment of the saying, "Together they are like a blazing fire, scattered they are like stars across the sky."
Jacaerys originally wanted to have Vermax burn the sharpshooter who had dared attack him, reducing him to ashes, but now it was impossible to pick him out from the scattering mass of people.
Not bothering to waste any more energy on these intruders, he guided Vermax to turn around and focus on another target—Magister Moser.
Jacaerys needed to extract from him the method for contacting the Faceless Men, as well as uncover what kind of drugs those monstrous bodyguards of his had taken.
Unfortunately, these questions would have to wait.
For when Jacaerys finally located Magister Moser, he discovered that the man had already committed suicide by poison.
It was understandable. Compared to the agonizing tortures he would have faced if captured, or the prospect of being devoured alive or burned to death by a dragon, poisoning himself to death was far kinder.
To ensure that Magister Moser was truly dead and not merely feigning death, Jacaerys ordered Vermax to incinerate his corpse with dragonfire.
Afterward, he spent some time mopping up the remnants of Moser's forces, those cavalrymen who had not managed to flee too far.
Having completed the cleanup, he returned to Myr.
Although the death of Lord Corlys had allowed him to frame this assault on Myr as an act of righteous vengeance, he had no intention of destroying Myr the way he had devastated Tyrosh.
Firstly, the remaining citizens and slaves of Myr had largely been coerced into compliance by their magisters. Very few had willingly participated in the assassination attempt, and their loyalty conversion rate would be terribly low.
Considering the enormous cost of slaughtering them all, the gains would simply not justify the loss.
Secondly, unlike Tyrosh, the eastern part of Myr, particularly its artisan district, still held tremendous value for him.
Both the telescopes and the specialized crossbows had been produced in this very place.
Jacaerys intended to use these two Myrish specialties to build a highly precise long-range army.
With the Unsullied forming the backbone of his close-combat forces, and the special crossbowmen forming his long-range division, all that remained was to one day establish a high-mobility cavalry force to complete his military structure.
After returning to Myr, Jacaerys immediately flew to the artisan district located in the eastern part of the city, where he personally suppressed the ongoing riots with the overwhelming might of his dragon.
Once the fierce battle in the Magister's Square came to an end, Stone led a thousand-strong army to quickly take over control of the area, stabilizing the situation.
Only then did Jacaerys finally find the time to carefully examine the spoils he had gained from this operation.
This time, he had amassed an astonishing total of nearly 78,000 trait Points. Among them, eighteen thousand points were provided by the two thousand slave soldiers who had fought with the determination to die.
The remaining sixty thousand points came from the nearly twenty thousand Myrish civilians who had participated in the siege of the Magister's Square.
As for those slave soldiers, their conversion rate was nearly perfect, almost one hundred percent. Even among the civilians of Myr, about one-third of them had been successfully converted.
Compared to his previous brutal and destructive conquest of Tyrosh, Jacaerys found that his more measured and strategic approach in Myr had proven to be far more effective.
At that moment, the total number of points displayed on his System Panel reached 116,318, marking the first time he had surpassed the threshold of one hundred thousand points.
Both the purple-quality traits, Gluttonous and Fire and Blood, now displayed a new option: (Upgradeable). This indicated that they could be elevated to an even higher tier.
However, Jacaerys hesitated. Gluttonous was still in its cooldown period after a recent devouring, and Fire and Blood had so far only granted resistance to flames, without exhibiting any powerful active effects.
He was unsure whether spending a full one hundred thousand points would truly bring an improvement worthy of such a cost.
Moreover, he recalled that when he previously upgraded to purple-quality traits, the System Panel had issued a warning about possible unknown changes.
His overall strength had not increased significantly since then, and he sensed that further reckless upgrades might expose him to greater dangers.
Most crucially, after the brutal battle on the Grandstand, Jacaerys realized that while his defenses were exceedingly strong, his offensive capabilities were lacking.
This situation was completely at odds with his preferred philosophy of overwhelming offense rather than passive defense.
After carefully weighing his options, he decided to use his accumulated trait Points in a manner that would maximize his current benefits.
Thus, he spent forty thousand Attribute Points to fully unlock the remaining four trait Slots. These newly unlocked slots quickly revealed their available traits:
[Fragrance of Flora (Green): +20% to Wood-attribute attacks]
[Masochist (Green): +20% to Defense, -20% to Attack]
[Dieting (Green): -20% to Food Consumption]
[Waterproof (Green): +20% Resistance to Water-attribute attacks]
Upon unlocking the tenth trait Slot, just as he had hoped, the Special Reward Trait Refresh option appeared once again.
However, this time, the cost of refreshing the Special Reward Trait had risen sharply, requiring a staggering fifty thousand trait points.
Without any hesitation, for this was the goal he had been aiming for all along, Jacaerys willed it into motion and immediately chose to refresh.
[Attribute Points: -50,000.]
A new Attribute appeared before his eyes:
[Divine Dragon (Green): +20% to Attack Damage of Dragon-type Creatures, +20% to Dragon's Might]
A prompt followed shortly after:
Would you like to replace the current Pet Attribute with the new one?
..
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[Chapter End's]
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