Game of Thrones: Killing to the top

" I kill because I can. I wage war to kill my enemies, so when you break it down to the basic levels I wage war because I can, and really do I need a better reason? I am after all the king."

 Aegon Targaryen to ****************

Four-chapter release.

Aegon chuckled, his eyes burning with challenge. "You will know my name soon enough."

The leader's nostrils flared. "Arrogant foreigner… let us see if your sword is as sharp as your tongue."

Without hesitation, he kicked his horse forward, his arakh flashing in the sunlight as he swung straight for Aegon's head.

Aegon ducked, the curved blade slicing through empty air. The moment the strike missed, he moved like a viper, twisting his body to the side while drawing his sword in a single fluid motion.

The Dothraki had the advantage of speed on horseback, but Aegon was faster than any ordinary man. His enhanced reflexes kicked in as he sidestepped the horse's charge and slashed upwards.

(Ding! One Dothraki warrior killed +9 points.)

The leader barely had time to scream as Aegon's blade tore through his ribs, carving through leather and flesh. Blood splattered across the grass as the warrior tumbled off his horse, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

The remaining five warriors shouted in fury, their faces contorting in rage.

"He killed Naro! Kill him!"

Aegon turned his blade, blood dripping from its edge. He raised it in a beckoning gesture. "Come then. Die like the rest."

The Dothraki didn't hesitate.

Two of them charged at once, their arakhs gleaming as they brought them down from opposite sides.

Aegon sidestepped the first attack, letting the blade skim past his shoulder. With a sharp twist, he plunged his sword into the second rider's chest, twisting it as blood gushed out. He yanked it free just in time to avoid another strike.

(Ding! One Dothraki warrior killed +9 points.)

The remaining three warriors spread out, attempting to surround him. One of them drew his bow, nocking an arrow with expert speed.

Aegon's eyes flicked toward him. Before the archer could release, Aegon grabbed the fallen warrior's arakh and hurled it. The curved blade spun through the air before burying itself in the archer's throat.

(Ding! One Dothraki warrior killed +9 points.)

The last two men hesitated for the first time. They looked at Aegon, then at their fallen comrades.

It was said the Dothraki didn't know fear, but all men know fear, and as they watch Aegon they felt it for the first time, even if it was only for a moment.

Aegon stepped forward, raising his bloodied sword. "Your Khal is weak, but you..." He pointed his blade at them. "You can still live. Take me to your Khal."

They exchanged nervous glances. One of them gritted his teeth.

"We do not serve weak men!"

Aegon smiled. "Good. Then you'll serve me."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, the warriors sheathed their weapons.

One of them nodded reluctantly. "We will take you to Khal Bharso."

Aegon exhaled, wiping the blood from his blade before returning it to its sheath.

The first step of his conquest had begun.

Aegon looked at the system map and already knew this group was a part of the Dothraki group he was targeting anyway, about two thousand Dothraki, a small group compared to much bigger ones Aegon could see spread out on the map.

The sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and crimson. The Dothraki Sea stretched endlessly in all directions, its golden grass swaying in waves as the evening wind rolled across the land.

Aegon rode at the center of a small procession two surviving Dothraki warriors leading him toward Khal Bharso's camp. The horses beneath them moved swiftly, their hooves drumming against the earth.

Aegon's cloak billowed behind him as he adjusted the dragon eggs hidden in his carrier, making sure they remained secure. His grip on the reins was steady, his sword still stained with fresh blood.

The warriors ahead rode in silence, stealing cautious glances at him when they thought he wouldn't notice. They had seen him cut down their kin with ease and had felt the weight of his presence. Fear lingered in their eyes, but so too did curiosity.

No man walked alone into Dothraki lands and survived. No man challenged a Khal without an army at his back.

And yet, here he was.

They didn't know if he was a fool or overly confident to do what he was doing. walking into the enemy camp without any help to challenge their leader was foolish.

Aegon didn't know what they were thinking, and even if he did, he would not care. His mind was focused on the upcoming fight, and he wasn't even worried that the Dothraki Khal wouldn't accept his challenge.

To put it simply the Dothraki was too simple to manipulate into doing what he wanted, he would have the challenge secured in a matter of minutes after meeting the Khal

As they rode over the last hill, the great Khalasar of Khal Bharso came into view.

The camp stretched for miles, a sprawling mass of tents, horses, and warriors. Thousands of Dothraki moved about, tending to their mounts, sharpening their weapons, or feasting around massive fires.

At the heart of the encampment sat the largest tent, decorated with braided horsehair and banners

Aegon's eyes swept across the camp, noting the number of warriors, and the strength of their defenses.

One of the two warriors who had escorted him dismounted and spoke in rapid Dothraki to a guard at the camp's entrance. The guard's eyes flickered toward Aegon, his expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"A foreigner comes to challenge the Khal?" he scoffed, shaking his head.

The other warrior nodded. "He killed Naro and the others."

The guard's face darkened. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the camp.

Aegon remained seated on his horse, watching the Dothraki move with restless energy. Many had already taken notice of him, their whispers spreading like wildfire.

A lone outsider. A foreign warrior who spoke their tongue. A man who had slain Dothraki riders and walked into the heart of their khalasar unafraid.

Within minutes, the crowd began to gather, murmurs turning to laughter and mockery as the news reached more ears.

Then, the tent flaps were thrown open and out stepped Khal Bharso himself.