Chapter Eleven: Battle

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~~~~(Point of view: Third person)

~~~~(Date: 275 AC)~~~~

The screams and exclamations woke Azrael, causing him to wake up disoriented, his heart pounding. He quickly washed his face and put on his netherite armor, since those screams couldn't mean anything good. 

As he left his hut, he saw how his Khalasar's warriors were already mounted on their horses, as his blood riders approached him. 

"My Khal, a Khalasar of considerable size, is approaching us; they seek to conquer us," Essino spoke, with a hard and anxious look on his face. 

Azrael thought for a bit, then pulled five chests from the menu and filled them with potions of strength and swiftness. He didn't know what size Khalasar would attack them, but Azrael decided to make use of all the tools he could. 

"Call all the warriors here, quickly!" He ordered urgently, knowing he didn't have much time. 

When all the warriors were gathering near Azrael, he summoned a horse and appearing in front of him, a large black-colored stallion, much like a Frisian, with its tail and abundant mane, being quite the beauty of an animal, showed itself. 

Without wasting time, Azrael began to give him apples to tame him, and with a saddle, he placed it on the animal's back, which did not resist. Once Azrael saw that he had achieved his purpose, he went on to place diamond armor on the horse, managing to see how the beautiful armor now adorned the animal's body, adjusting completely to the stallion. 

The armor, once placed on the horse, covered its legs, neck, head, and body, leaving only the eyes, hooves, mane, and tail uncovered. Leaving him protected for what was to come. 

With that covered, Azrael got on the horse. And he was a bit surprised when he didn't find it difficult to control the horse, as if it were born riding; 'maybe it was a product of the Minecraft game?' Azrael wondered, remembering that players didn't necessarily need to know how to ride a horse to control it, since once the player tamed and mounted the horse, it would then be very easy for the player to control and make the animal obey him. 

Azrael decided to investigate one more thing, to investigate further.

Setting it aside once, he saw that all the warriors were already in front of him—four thousand warriors mounted on their trusty horses, ready to die if necessary. 

"That Khal who leads that Khalasar is a fool; do you know why? Because he decided to fight the Khalasar that the God of Horses favors, let's show him the fury and power we have in our hands," Azrael began saying, watching as all the warriors cheered and shouted their acceptance. 

Once he saw that the mini pep talk had worked, Azrael ordered the women and children to take the potions from the chests and, to give each rider both a wine red and a crystal blue potion, which were potions of strength and speed, which Azrael hoped would give his warriors a boost. 

When Azrael saw that his warriors had ingested the potions, he had his horse advance to where Qrano said the other Dothraki horse was coming from. 

With Azrael in front of the Khalasar, riding his great black stallion, the imposing beast whinnying fiercely, which kicked up small clouds of dust from the sandy ground, every time it moved its strong legs, Azrael watched as the Khalasar appeared on the horizon, its limbs stretching as far as the eye could see. 

Turning his face and looking both ways, Azrael saw his wolves surrounding him, as they bared their great teeth and let out howls and barks filled with malice. 

Further behind the wolves, his blood riders were already poised for confrontation, their braids plaited, their bells ringing and waving in the wind as they prepared for the coming confrontation, with the morning sun shining on the horizon, reflecting off the bronze of their hides and the sharp blade of their arakh.

That sight filled Azrael with fervor and strength, who, without a word, made his horse start running, being closely followed by his fearsome wolves. Further back, the rest of his Khalasar also advanced, forming a sort of wedge with Azrael at its tip.

In front of Azrael, he managed to see how the other Khalasar was getting closer and closer until the roar of the Dothraki crowd resounded in the air, a symphony of shouts and cheers that announced the arrival of an epic confrontation between two powerful Khalasars.

And accompanied by a savage roar, both Khalasars hurled themselves at each other, their horses neighing and their legs galloping wildly. The clash of steel echoed across the plain as the arakhs met in a titanic clash.

With the arakhs dancing in the air, sparkling in the sun, as the Khalasars clashed in a whirlwind of speed and skill, Azrael was undeterred as he fought with all his might, already having slain half a dozen men who, despite their martial prowess, were no match for Azrael's superior strength and speed. 

Next to Azrael were the five wolves, who moved with surprising dexterity as they evaded the blows of the Dothraki who wanted to kill them. In contrast, the wolves just looked at them with those black eyes, as if it were a storm itself looking at you before unleashing its fury.

In the end, the wolves showed their power, with the first one lunging with ferocity toward a Dothraki that was about to attack Azrael from behind, attacking the man with astonishing speed. 

Sinking his claws and fangs into the tender flesh of the Dothraki, tearing him apart easily and killing him in the blink of an eye. 

By the time the wolf had finished with the man, the other four had also left a trail of death and chaos around Azrael, as if it were the reaper himself who had descended to earth. 

Elsewhere, a battle was raging between a lone warrior and a group of five Dothraki. The man, clad in plate armor made of netherite and wielding a sword of the same material, was being surrounded by riders on their horses while dueling with two Dothraki at the same time.

Maicol, not wanting to be left behind in the fray, had taken a sword and armor given to him by Azrael, and had also joined the fight, since to him, if his creator fought, why wouldn't he fight too? So it was that he now found himself surrounded, fighting two Dothraki, while others watched for the precise moment to kill him. 

So it was that one of the Dothraki launched the first attack. Slashing the air with his arakh, Attacking Maicol without contemplation. However, the Dothraki did not expect to meet a warrior who had made his way to survive in his ancient world, fighting beings far more powerful and terrifying than mere men wielding an arakh. 

Maicol, raising his sword, made the shrill sound of metal clashing against metal echo through the air as he blocked the arakh with skill and precision. 

Maicol, with determination carved on his face, moved with grace and strength, parrying each attack masterfully. His sword, glowing like an extension of his will, sliced through the air with each calculated move. 

The Dothraki, accustomed to speed and agility on the plains, found themselves with an opponent that challenged their prowess. The battle intensified when Maicol, in an act somewhat lacking in honor, kicked up a bit of dust with his boot, which hindered the sight of one of the Dothraki, giving Maicol time to deftly spin and bring one of the riders down with a mighty blow, embedding his sword through flesh and leather vest, sending the Dothraki warrior into the dust.

Maicol, demonstrating his boast as a skilled and tenacious warrior, managed to kill a second Dothraki while evading the blow of the others still on their horses. To the point where, one by one, they were knocked off their horses, the product of Azrael's wolves. 

"I see your skill is great," Azrael said to Maicol as he watched Maicol duel seven Dothrakis at the same time and managed to kill two. 

"There are many dead; this battle has to end quickly" Maicol, not paying attention to Azrael's compliment, left an apt comment. 

"You're right, I have to fight the Khal, if I kill him, this battle ends..." Whatever next word Azrael was going to say vanished, when he fell from his horse, as an arrow hit him in the shoulder, causing him to lose control of his horse's straps and causing him to fall.