Chapter 121: The Great General King, Dany

Dany first nodded, then shook her head and said, "I think I mostly understand, but just understanding isn't enough!"

I know Newton's Three Laws too, but that doesn't mean I can summon meteors or create a universal pull!

"You truly have extraordinary talent!" the old man praised. "Jaime Lannister took half a year just to understand a portion of it, and another four years to reach a level where it felt effortless. If you continue practicing, you should be able to master it quickly."

"I didn't expect the Kingslayer to be that formidable," Dany said in surprise.

Even among knights, less than one in ten could reach a level of seamless control over their movements, and those who advanced to the second stage were even rarer.

The White Knight gave a bitter smile and said, "Your Grace, you must understand—back then, being a Kingsguard was the highest honor for a knight. The seven white-cloaked knights were undoubtedly the strongest of our time. Each of us had reached that effortless mastery.

Unlike now, where monarchs no longer consider skill or character. They appoint Kingsguard based purely on personal favoritism, treating it like any other courtly title."

Was that nepotistic king me, or Joffrey?

Was it Jorah Mormont who was unworthy of the Kingsguard, or the Hound who replaced you?

"What level is the Old Bear at?" Dany asked, touching her nose.

"Jorah?" The old man sighed, his face full of disdain. "Worse than you—even seamless control is a struggle for him. Once we deal with this Ghiscari Alliance attack, you should suspend his position and let him train under me for a few years! If he lacks knightly virtue, he should at least be skilled in combat, right?"

Dany was dumbfounded. "How could I possibly be stronger than Jorah? I always thought he was incredibly powerful—he can defeat many Dothraki warriors."

"Your Grace, mastery is just a measure of technique, not raw strength. Innate power, speed, environment, and mindset are all key factors in determining victory," the old man explained seriously.

"For example, Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, had reached an almost divine level of mastery, yet he still died at the hands of Eddard Stark."

At this, the old man sighed wistfully, a trace of confusion in his voice. "Eddard Stark wasn't even as strong as Jorah Mormont. His mastery, strength, and agility were all inferior.

So how did he defeat Arthur Dayne, a man who was unmatched in strength, agility, technique, and mindset?

It's been fifteen years, yet the battle at the Tower of Joy remains a mystery. But I am certain of one thing—Lord Stark must have hidden something."

Hidden the Prince That Was Promised—Jon Snow.

As they spoke, an Unsullied soldier hurried up the stairway.

"Your Grace, a scout has just arrived. The enemy is less than 100 kilometers away. By tomorrow evening, they will reach the wheat fields outside our estate."

Dany walked to the edge of the wall and looked down at the militia in the plaza, practicing spear thrusts in formation. She sighed. "They've finally arrived. I've been waiting half a month—our farm work is already falling behind."

Upon receiving news that the anti-Dragon Queen Ghiscari army had set out from Kayakayanaya, Dany had initiated a nationwide mobilization.

Aside from the Unsullied and her 5,000-strong "Mother of Dragons" guard, every household with brothers or grown sons—whether they were city dwellers, farmers, newly freedmen, or Ghiscari citizens—was required to send one able-bodied man for military service.

In total, she recruited 30,000 laborers, a modest number considering many families had already joined her guard.

Her mobilization was even more efficient than that of the Seven Kingdoms' lords, with less disruption to production. Each household still had at least one adult man and woman, and every estate had oxen and plow horses.

In the North, with a population of over 500,000, Robb Stark had recruited only 18,000 men. This led to an agricultural collapse—delayed battles left entire fields of wheat rotting.

At dawn the next day, Dany mounted her silver mare and led her forces north along the coastal road—5,000 Unsullied, 500 roaring Dothraki warriors, 4,000 Mother of Dragons guards, and 20,000 laborers.

Unlike Robb Stark's army, which consisted solely of soldiers without any logistical support, her forces included laborers responsible for transporting supplies, setting up camps, and digging trenches. Only 9,500 were professional warriors.

Robb had relied on local lords for provisions, and when that wasn't enough, his scouts resorted to raiding farmers, seizing their grain.

Not much different from the pillaging Neon Devils, the Riverlands peasants even formed a guerrilla force—the Brotherhood Without Banners—to specifically hunt down Northern raiders who stole grain and assaulted women.

You might wonder—how could Robb, the show's noble protagonist, commit such atrocities?

If he didn't, his army would starve.

The truth is, as a typical noble heir, Robb never cared about commoners' lives.

Most Westerosi lords don't care. Even Ser Barristan, who upholds knightly honor, believes that as long as the king's war is just, the people should sacrifice their food and lives for him.

Tywin Lannister, however, was a bit smarter. Instead of relying on local resources, he hired the infamous Brave Companions, a mercenary group from across the Narrow Sea.

Also known as the Bloody Mummers, this group of 500 butchers handled Tywin's foraging efforts.

Within just a year or two of war, the once-prosperous Riverlands became a wasteland.

But I digress.

Dany's laborers focused on logistics—carrying food, setting up camps, and fortifications. Only her professional soldiers would engage in battle.

The wheat fields on either side of the road were ripening, their stalks turning golden. Along the ridges, farmers in straw hats stood with sickles in hand, staring blankly as the Queen's army stretched out like a long, unbroken dragon.

Perhaps they were searching for their husbands and brothers among the convoy transporting provisions.

A hundred cavalry scouts rode ahead, spread out over five kilometers to reconnoiter for the main army.

Dany led the charge, riding at the very front. Today, she wore an inconspicuous suit of gray-black iron armor, complete with helmet, faceplate, gorget, breastplate, vambraces, skirt armor, greaves, and iron boots—leaving no vulnerable spot exposed.

Even her silver mare was partially armored, with silver chainmail covering its head and belly.

On her flanks rode the burly Belwas and the white-cloaked commander Barristan. The rotund eunuch had taken to horseback as well, an unusual sight for an infantryman.

Jorah was left behind to guard the city, while Butcher Cleon had his own tasks and did not accompany them.

Behind Dany marched Grey Worm leading 5,000 Unsullied, followed by 4,000 members of the Mother of Dragons Guard. Trailing them were 20,000 laborers pushing carts and guiding ox-drawn wagons.

The column stretched four to five kilometers, with 400 additional cavalry weaving through to relay messages and account for stragglers.

Dany understood the principle of securing supplies before advancing troops, but since they were on the defensive, sending the laborers ahead seemed like delivering provisions straight to the enemy.

The relentless sun beat down as the shimmering heat rising from the red dirt road distorted the distant fields of wheat and orchards. Yet Dany could still make out a scout approaching.

"Report!"

Soon, a rider clad in "strange" attire halted before her silver mare.

Gone were the traditional Dothraki vests; Dany had mandated that her horsemen wear helmets like the Unsullied's, fitted with lightning rod designs, along with light chainmail. Crossbows hung from both sides of their saddles, loaded and ready.

Compared to typical Dothraki, they did look rather odd.

"Khaleesi, enemy scouts spotted five kilometers ahead. Aggo shot two of them with his bow."

"How far are we from the designated battlefield?" Her voice was slightly distorted through the faceplate.

"Eight kilometers."

Dany turned to her commander, "Did we miscalculate? How did they advance so quickly? Yesterday they were still 100 kilometers from Astapor, and now they're only 20 kilometers from the city at Poplar Slope?"

Five months earlier, when the anti-Dragon Queen coalition was still forming, Barristan had anticipated this scenario. He spent two weeks personally surveying the terrain within a 50-kilometer radius of the city.

The seasoned veteran advised Dany against holding the city for three reasons: First, the surrounding estates would be destroyed. The enemy, far from their own supply lines, would struggle with logistics but could easily forage if they reached the city outskirts.

Sure, Dany could implement a scorched-earth policy, but the cost would be immense.

Second, losing the initiative was unwise. The enemy had traveled over 500 kilometers, exhausted from the march. Launching a proactive attack was the best strategy.

Third, Dany's Unsullied and Dothraki were better suited for open-field battles, where the terrain played to her strengths.

He had identified a low hill 20 kilometers outside the city, named "Poplar Slope," as the ideal battleground.

Poplar Slope rose 100 meters above sea level, its gentle incline perfect for downhill charges. The sea bordered the left, while a coastal road flanked the right, leaving the enemy with no way to bypass it.

A large poplar forest behind provided timber for fortifications and constructing trebuchets.

Based on the Ghiscarian army's average pace of 20 kilometers per day, they should not have covered an extra 70 kilometers overnight to reach Poplar Slope ahead of them.

Dany's inquiry didn't faze Barristan. His calm voice reassured her.

He said, "No need to worry. It's likely just an advance unit, not many in number. Deploy all our cavalry to sweep the area within five kilometers of Poplar Slope."

"All of them? Didn't you say they weren't many?" Dany was surprised.

Barristan smiled faintly, "Their scouts are probably mercenaries. A show of force might make them reconsider their loyalties."

"Surrender to us? Surely they've signed contracts with the Ghiscars." Dany shook her head.

"Aside from the Golden Company, most mercenary bands have a history of breaking contracts," the old knight said with disdain.

"Very well."

Orders spread quickly. The horsemen shouted commands as the blue banners of the Mother of Dragons Guard rippled. Soon, 2,500 cavalry surged forward along paths cleared by the infantry.

"Long live the Mother of Dragons! Long live Queen Daenerys! Long live the Wings of Freedom!" Each rider shouted as they passed Dany.

The 4,000-strong Mother of Dragons Guard comprised 2,000 light cavalry and 2,000 longbowmen, trained in formations of 666 for half a year.

Having the Unsullied as elite infantry, Dany saw no need to raise more foot soldiers.

Initially, she'd considered forming heavy cavalry like Westerosi knights, but Astapor lacked quality horses, steel, and skilled blacksmiths.

Ordinary horses couldn't bear the weight of armored knights. A proper heavy cavalryman required not just a squire with a horse but also three quality mounts to sustain prolonged campaigns.

A single warhorse, after an afternoon of intense charging, needed weeks of rest to avoid permanent damage. In extended battles, knights would switch horses mid-fight, resting the animals even if the men pressed on.

(End of Chapter)

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