Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

"The art of war, like any art, is a beautiful thing, and even more full of a sense of accomplishment. A good strategy can work wonders in times of need." Visenya Targaryen, Daughter of Fire.

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The First Daughter - Volantis.

Armored, Visenya watched the battle unfold before her. The first war she faced was particularly brutal, arms and guts spilling to the ground as war cries and fear spread across the battlefield like a hellish chorus.

To be honest, it wasn't easy to convince her mother to let her go to war, but fortunately Kinvara said she would lead two thousand men, which reassured the Queen of Westeros, though she still told her to back off if things got out of hand. Something Visenya accepted, for only a fool would fight to the death if he could survive.

"The Dothraki cavalry is coming!!!" Visenya shouted as he heard one of the soldiers and tightened his grip on his sword and shield.

"Aim for the horses and then kill anyone who survives the fall." She shouted and her order was passed on man by man.

The cavalry arrived in an instant before the heavy infantry of two thousand men. Visenya saw the moment of impact between the two armies, one of her men flying backwards as a result of the collision between shield and horse. She had no time to worry about the fallen man, for one of the Dothraki had reached her.

Visenya was not nervous, as someone who had already killed a few times, she would not be rattled by something like that. Seeing the sword called the Horse Rapist's Arakh, the dragon princess dodged the blade with ease, as it wasn't a large blade like the long swords.

Swinging the sword without hesitation, she aimed not at the man but at the animal, cutting off one of the horse's legs with a swift blow, knocking the man to the ground. Visenya saw that she didn't need to kill the man, as the horse had already done the job for her by falling on the man riding it.

Turning her gaze forward, she continued to fight the next enemy, always using the strategy of killing the horse first and then the man riding it. Something that all of the two thousand men she led followed, becoming a grinder of human and horse flesh.

Arrows tore through the air, killing a few unfortunate bystanders, but nothing a shield couldn't handle.

Ten minutes later, Visenya took a deep breath, smelling the sickening scent of blood in the air. Her body was exhausted, sticky and tired, but she showed no signs of stopping until she finally noticed the Dothraki horde retreating into the distance.

"Archbishop Benerro has ordered the troops to retreat, Daughter of Fire." One of the plate-armored knights approached her and spoke in an equally tired tone. However, his gaze, and that of all those around him, showed clear admiration for the eighteen-year-old girl.

Visenya nodded and withdrew decisively, five kilometers from Volantis, to a makeshift camp.

The war was like waves on a sea, both armies advancing, trying to kill as many of the other as possible, then retreating to catch their breath. After all, they were humans, not immortal beings with infinite endurance.

Visenya entered the camp covered in blood, her black armor with the House Targaryen crest stained with blood. It might sound strange, but covered in blood, with her hair dyed red and a not-so-pleasant smell on her body, she still felt incredibly aroused.

She had trained all her life for this, gone through hardships and long nights, suffered assassination attempts, and swore to herself that she would return all the pain she had suffered in her years of exile. How could she not be happy at this moment, finally able to put everything she had learned into practice?

Looking around the camp, Visenya noticed that the wounded were arriving in small numbers, and the more seriously injured in even smaller numbers. This made her realize that the difference in equipment was something extremely important in a war. The Dothraki had no armor, and their swords, called arakh, could not easily penetrate the steel plates of armor.

Bows had power and were the main strength of the Dothraki cavalry, but while bows could be powerful, they had limited arrows, and even the best archer in the world couldn't claim to hit 100% of the arrows he shot. It could be said that the war was moving toward victory for Volantis.

She wanted it to happen before her nephew arrived, to show that even without a dragon, she wasn't a fragile girl and definitely wouldn't be a burden.

As for the dead, honestly, she wasn't worried about that, she had discovered that death was just a common thing in the Red Faith, many could be revived by the Red Priestesses with magic, magic she didn't know about at the moment. And while it wasn't 100% certain that they would revive, most of them did.

Although it wasn't an army of immortals, it was extremely powerful, so much so that even with twice the number of enemies, the Red Army still had extremely high morale.

Visenya walked with her head held high as she headed towards the main tent. Entering it, she saw Archbishop Benerro and many other men, some red priestesses and former slaves, now servants.

Seeing Visenya's arrival, Benerro nodded to her and looked at her delicate face with sweet features covered in blood and hair stuck to her face. According to the information he had received, Princess Visenya really surprised him. The girl was truly worthy of the title of Daughter of Fire, fighting with a voracious and destructive flame on the battlefield.

"How is the war going, Archbishop?" Visenya asked, taking a seat on one of the chairs in her heavy armor. She accepted a goblet of water from a servant and drank unceremoniously.

"Very well, the moats and stakes served very well to stop the advance of the Dothraki cavalry." Benerro said with a rare smile. The idea of using the moats and wooden stakes came from Visenya herself after she saw the flat land around the city.

"Though the count is still uncertain, we killed about fifteen hundred Dothraki in exchange for two hundred of our soldiers." Benerro continued. "But we only killed three hundred on the southern front." Visenya's face showed a calm expression, the strategy with the Dothraki had worked better than she had expected, but the situation on the southern front was a problem.

The Dothraki were not alone, there was a mercenary army of eleven thousand fighting in the south at the moment. And unlike the Dothraki, they were not as emotional and fearless as the Dothraki, who advanced knowing they would die.

Fortunately, the two armies didn't join forces for more than obvious reasons. Though the thirty-five thousand strong force had to be divided into two battlefronts, the Red Army still held the upper hand for the moment.

"What about the secondary plan?" Visenya asked, wiping some of the blood from her cheeks, feeling more energetic after a brief rest.

Benerro's plan, of which Visenya spoke, was to lure Khal Drogo and his army away from Volantis with a secondary, weaker, and less numerous army. In the meantime, the Dothraki forces that remained on the outskirts of Volantis would be wiped out. Once these forces were eliminated, the main army would pursue the main Dothraki contingent.

The secondary army would then turn and face Khal Drogo's forces directly, while the main red army would approach to attack the Dothraki from the rear. This strategy would pressure the enemy from both the front and the rear, ensuring their complete destruction.

After all, as any strategist knows, to be attacked from the rear is practically synonymous with defeat in battle.

"We'll start in two hours, everyone can eat and come back fully rested." Benerro said, making everyone stand up and leave the main tent.

Visenya was no exception, she walked over to her tent, entered it and sighed with relief as she tried to remove her armor by herself.

However, a pair of small hands appeared behind her and helped her remove her battle armor.

With a helpless sigh, Visenya didn't bother to turn around to see who it was and just spoke. "Does our mother know?"

Daenerys smiled innocently and replied, unbuckling her armor. "She thinks I'm asleep after studying for so long."

The strong smell of blood on the armor didn't bother her and she continued to help her sister with an admiring look.

"How was it, Vy? I mean, the battlefield." Daenerys asked, removing her armor and gambeson completely, leaving the eighteen-year-old naked.

Daenerys quickly pulled Visenya over to a barrel of water, and the young woman needed no help getting into the barrel.

Visenya let out a pleasant moan as she submerged herself in the barrel, wrapped her arms around the barrel, and closed her eyes. War was cool, but it was too exhausting.

"I'd say it's brutal, especially one like this, it's a good time to prepare for the future in Westeros, where more wars await us." Visenya commented with her eyes closed as she felt her younger sister wipe her face and hair like a wet cloth.

"Unfortunately, I'm too young to go to war." Daenerys commented with a tone of dissatisfaction at her mother's words. She had taken a man's life before, but she was too young to go to war.

Honestly, she wanted to call her mother a hypocrite, but with the respect she had for the woman who raised her, she wouldn't allow herself to do so.

"Don't worry Dany, your only responsibility is to hatch the eggs our nephew asked you to." Visenya comforted her sister in a soft, warm tone.

Daenerys' eyes lit up when she heard this. The night before she had dreamed of blood and fire, a dream she remembered in detail. She assumed she had seen a clue to finding the source to hatch her lovely dragons from their eggs.

"I will hatch them, sister." Daenerys spoke in a determined tone.

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