Chapter 277: The Trap

Jon's strategic vision was commendable.

Upon seeing the Dothraki retreat so easily, he guessed that something had gone awry on another battlefield.

Otherwise, the Dothraki, who had traveled a great distance with grandeur, would not be willing to retreat so shamefully.

Of course, it was also possible that the Dothraki were luring them into a trap.

If the defenders of Pentos dared to pursue, they would be annihilated, and the city would be taken.

If one were to judge solely by the leisurely retreat of the Dothraki, it did seem like a bit of a ruse.

Jon Connington, although not very old, was an experienced commander and would not willingly fall for such a trap.

What kind of soldiers did others bring to fight the Dothraki in the field? The Unsullied, or at the very least, elite troops.

What kind of army was left to him in Pentos? A group of mercenaries and a ragtag group of defenders.

Even if Jon Connington had the courage to pursue, these soldiers probably wouldn't have the guts to follow him out of the city.

So, the decision was made to hold the troops within Pentos.

Outside the city, among the sparse retreating Dothraki, Mago, with his white hair, sat on his warhorse, looking at the quiet city of Pentos. There was no sign of pursuit.

He sighed slightly.

He was not willing to accept defeat.

However, this was their only chance to take the city, but the city's defenders did not fall for it, and Mago had no other options.

He couldn't force Jon to pursue and walk into his trap. War itself was a process of deceit. If he couldn't deceive anyone, he would have to play it real.

After all, the Dragon Rider Khal, his Khaleesi, and their twenty thousand strong army were on their way, and they had cut off the Dothraki's retreat. The Dothraki could only break through towards Meereen.

Turn around and fight back?

But this idea only appeared in Mago's mind for a second.

He immediately thought of the giant creature that flew over his head that day, the pillar of fire that fell from the sky and hit the ground, and the countless clansmen who wailed in the flames.

"Better not."

Mago quickly shook his white head, driving this terrifying thought out of his mind.

"Let's retreat."

Then the old Khal sighed, turned his horse around, and spurred it on.

The horse moved towards the distance.

The Dothraki came quickly and left quickly, after all, they were a nomadic people.

And their camps were very simple. They took down what they could carry, and left behind what they couldn't, planning to loot others later.

Then, by evening.

The Dothraki had disappeared from the outskirts of Pentos.

"It seems that the Dothraki have truly retreated."

The Beggar Prince, who had been hiding in the repaired Prince's Palace for some time, finally came out.

During this period, the Beggar Prince had been very low-key, not leaving his palace, acting as if he didn't know that the Dothraki had besieged the city.

He was even less active than the nominal prince, who would at least climb the city walls to feign boosting morale during times of crisis.

But the Beggar Prince didn't really have the ability to boost morale, especially since everyone knew his current situation.

Regardless of whether he had been marginalized, he didn't have much real power in his hands, and he had seized the title of prince by force.

The mercenaries had committed many crimes on the Red Night,

not only against the ruling family, but also against many civilian families.

The common people couldn't distinguish between other mercenaries and the Windblown, so they blamed everything on the head of the mercenaries.

And now.

The Beggar Prince had also received news of the Dothraki's retreat and had suddenly come out for some reason.

He even personally went to the city wall to watch, looking at the retreating Dothraki with a complex expression.

"Your Highness, you don't seem too pleased?"

Jon Connington, standing next to him in armor, hand on his sword hilt, looked at him with an unmistakable expression of suspicion.

The old man with white hair heard the words of the actual ruler of Pentos, his face changed slightly, and he quickly shook his head.

"No."

"I'm glad the Dothraki have retreated. I just regret that I, an old man, didn't personally fight off these invaders."

"Is that so?"

Upon hearing the Beggar Prince's explanation, Jon Connington's eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he didn't say much.

As long as the Beggar Prince didn't bring about his own downfall, Viserys certainly wouldn't take action against him.

Jon had worked with King Viserys for a while and had a good understanding of his temperament.

He was clear about rewards and punishments. Those who did well were rewarded, and those who made mistakes were punished.

Since he had promised the Beggar Prince that he could become the prince of Pentos, Viserys would not go back on his word.

He certainly wouldn't use the Beggar Prince as a scapegoat for a lost battle, or some natural disaster, flood, earthquake, or famine.

Time passed quickly.

Two more days went by.

The Dothraki had retreated, and the reinforcements had finally arrived.

Pentos had kept its gates closed for the past few days, fearing that the Dothraki, who hadn't gone far, might suddenly return.

And two days later.

A mournful horn broke the silence in the city.

"What's happening?"

"Have the Dothraki come back?"

Many refugees in Pentos, whose homes had been destroyed by the Dothraki, had been driven to the foot of the city.

Jon had personally led the cavalry out to repel the Dothraki and escort these refugees into the city.

"Gods protect us!"

The horn outside the city reawakened the fear in the hearts of these poor refugees, who huddled in the corners of the city walls with their relief food, shivering.

But the soldiers on the city walls saw a scene completely different from what the refugees imagined.

There was a roar of cheers on the city walls of Pentos, and the soldiers embraced each other and laughed heartily.

"We've won!"

"We've defeated the Dothraki!"

Because they saw the flying figure in the distant sky.

Their king had three dragons.

This was something that other countries and city-states in the world could not have, and the soldiers of Pentos even took pride in it.

First-time visitors and merchants to Pentos also came with the purpose of seeing the legendary dragons.

However, it was hard to see the dragons.

After all, Balerion rarely stayed in Pentos for long, as it was too restrictive for him. The forests and the sea outside the city were its playground.

But the city gate guards of Pentos could boast to these inquiring visitors with pride, as if Viserys was a relative of their own.

A giant dragon flew in the distant sky, letting out a roar.

And on the horizon, the endless Targaryen army gradually came into view.