After that, Dany went one-on-one and sent the seventy-two bloodriders of the twenty-four khals on their way.
To Dany's surprise, after she eliminated all the khals, the one-eyed crone seemed intent on helping her stall for time. The eunuchs slowed down as they collected bodies and cleaned the arena, moving at barely half their usual speed.
By the time she ended the lives of those seventy-two bloodriders, the red sun had sunk into the west and dusk was falling.
Then the dosh khaleen immediately announced: today ends here, and anyone who wished to challenge her would have to come tomorrow.
Tomorrow?
The horselords normally feared no death, and a few khalsar leaders nearly stepped forward. But once they heard "tomorrow," they looked at the woman standing on the arena stage. From dawn until dusk, she had not eaten lunch, yet she had barely shown any sign of fatigue.
It was obvious that after resting for one night and recovering her strength, she could perform another "hundred-man slaughter" tomorrow.
These khalsar leaders were, after all, chiefs of their tribes. They had at least some basic sense.
Would they really come tomorrow just to die?
And so, aside from Dany, the remaining twenty-six khals—over three hundred khalsar leaders—came forward one after another, offered up their curved blades, and declared that they would forfeit their right to challenge the khaleesi.
This was equivalent to acknowledging her as the Khal of Khals.
When the one-eyed crone shouted three times, "Is there any warrior who dares to challenge the Khal of Khals," and received no reply, she walked decisively up the high platform. She knelt on the blood-soaked yellow earth, placed her staff at her side, lowered her head to Dany, and kowtowed three times.
"You have fulfilled the ancient prophecy. Vaes Dothrak has finally awaited its true master. You are the one who rides the steed that mounts the world, the great Khal of Khals, the King of Horse Lords!"
Behind the crone, dozens of dosh khaleen prostrated themselves on the ground in a semicircle surrounding Dany. Their faces were solemn, their eyes fervent as they cried out, "King of Horse Lords, Khal of Khals!"
Their actions were like toppling a line of dominoes. Tens of thousands of Dothraki and gathered market merchants at the foot of Mother's Mountain knelt in succession from near to far, shouting in unison, "King of Horse Lords, Khal of Khals!"
At the foot of the mountain, across heaven and earth, and throughout the grasslands of the Dothraki Sea, it was as if all voices were calling one name: Daenerys, the King of Khals.
Even the evening clouds in the sky were scattered by the roar, revealing the sun's last dazzling red light, which spilled over the face of the lone woman standing proud with two swords in hand beneath Mother's Mountain.
She had become the first woman since the horselords left the Bone Mountains to unify the Dothraki Sea.
"Hiss—gah!"
"Hiss—gah!"
"Hiss—gah!"
"Hiss—gah!"
"Hiss—gah!"
At that moment, five dragon roars thundered from the west, some deep and resonant, others sharp and piercing.
The vast prairie lay flat like a tranquil sea. The blazing red sun hung like a crimson curtain stretched across the world's edge—close enough to touch, yet forever unreachable.
From within that red sun, five black dots emerged. The dots grew in size to the naked eye, transforming into five giant dragons beating their wings with all their might.
A colossal black dragon. A white dragon armored in silver scales. A green dragon shimmering with emerald light under the setting sun. A golden dragon flashing with metallic brilliance. And a red dragon the size of a horse colt.
The five colored dragons all came to the great grasslands, to Vaes Dothrak, to attend the "Horse-Emperor" coronation of the Mother of Dragons.
"Khal of Khals!" the great black dragon roared at the sky, a cry that split the clouds and shook the soul.
"Hiss—gah!" the other four dragons stretched their necks and roared together.
The five dragons circled above Dany's head, like a dazzling multicolored crown.
With heaven and earth as her throne, she crowned herself with five dragons.
In that moment, every living creature on the great grasslands—every beast, every person—fell into awe and submission.
Yes, Dany had planned carefully for this glorious moment.
When she provoked the khals into stepping onto the arena that morning, she knew the situation was secure. She summoned her five dragons to help their mother put on a show.
They only roared a few times over Vaes Dothrak, letting the Dothraki witness her power, and then flew back through the sunset.
As for whether their temporary absence from Slaver's Bay would leave their home vulnerable…
First, Dany's number of winged beasts was no fewer than the allied forces'.
Second, from her arrival at Vaes Dothrak yesterday afternoon to becoming the Khal of Khals at this evening's dusk, only a little over thirty hours had passed.
The ravens had probably only just reached Tolorro; news had not even reached Volantis yet! (ps)
Moreover, before she came to Vaes Dothrak, her skinchangers had already scouted the entire city, pinpointed where the ravens were kept, and kept watch throughout.
The Dothraki were honest. Even Bono had not planned to bring foreign enemies into Vaes Dothrak. But after Dany appeared, a few Westerosi merchants did release ravens.
"You seem to have intended to help me. Your eunuchs deliberately dragged out the interval between duels."
That night, the Dothraki held funerals for the twenty-six khals.
Twenty-six pyres sent smoke swirling into the air. Heat waves rolled; firelight stained the sky red, casting flickering shadows across Dany's face and the face of the crone standing one step behind her.
"Great Khal of Kings, you already slew all twenty-six khals. Aside from helping you, what other choice did I have?" the crone said helplessly.
She was a pure Dothraki, a dosh khaleen, a priestess and wise woman, responsible for the future of her people.
Had Dany failed, the twenty-six khalasars left without khals would have plunged into a massive struggle for succession.
The Dothraki would not be destroyed, but they would surely suffer heavy losses this winter.
"What is the prophecy of 'the one who rides the steed that mounts the world'? You possess no supernatural power, so how could you foresee anything?"
Now that she had become the Khal of Khals, Dany no longer bothered with caution in her speech.
If an emperor still had to walk on eggshells, then what was the point of being emperor?
The one-eyed crone's wrinkled face flushed, though it was unclear whether she was blushing or whether it was the glow from the distant funeral pyres.
"Great Khal of Kings, I truly have no sorcery. But I really can prophesy. Sometimes, during prayer, I see visions."
In that case, it seemed the one-eyed crone might indeed possess some innate supernatural talent—specifically, one of prophecy.
Dany looked thoughtful.
"Have you ever tested your magical talent?" she asked again.
The old crone hesitated and said, "Great Khal of Khals, the Dothraki attitude toward maegi is…"
Do not approach a maegi, and never allow a maegi to touch you.
This is a rule "everyone knows" among the Dothraki.
Yet the Khal of all the Dothraki happens to be the most formidable maegi of the age.
"This needs to change. There are so many people in the world who practice magic—how can you hide from them forever? The change starts with you. I know the Moon-Singer secret arts of the Zebra People. You can try them later," Dany said.
"Great Khal of Khals, I must disagree with you," the old crone said solemnly.
"The Zebra People have their Moon-Singers, but their achievements are no more glorious than the Dothraki. My prophecies are not accurate, and I know that.
"But what I rely on to govern the vast Khalasar is not prophecy, but sound judgment and experience."
"You are not entirely wrong, but times have changed and the future…" Dany paused to think for a moment, then continued, "During an age when magic waned, the wisdom of ordinary people might indeed surpass the power of dragons. However, the future will enter a period of rapid magical growth, and you…"
Seeing the confusion on the old crone's face, she sighed helplessly and shook her head. "Forget it. In a few years, when the Long Night falls, you will understand."
The emergence of dragons raised the tides of magic.
There was no doubt that half-god dragons would stir the magical tide even more strongly.
When her five dragons all reached the demi-god level, the global magic tide might return to the levels of Valyria.
And if a dragon became a true god—
Dany was a woman of swift action. After completing the Khal's funeral, she immediately began gathering her forces to march south.
At the foot of Mother's Mountain, beside Womb Lake.
Near the Khal's funeral pyre, Dany gathered 317 Khaskars and more than eighty dosh khaleen, convening the "First Dothraki General Assembly."
Everyone sat on the ground, encircling her in unity.
Wait—weren't there only a little over forty dosh khaleen? How did they become more than eighty?
The extra ones were the wives of the twenty-six Khals who died today.
Some Khals had more than one wife, so this added more than thirty widows all at once.
Dany, the maker of widows.
It was rather embarrassing to think about.
Just that afternoon, Dany had killed their husbands and many of their adult sons, and by nightfall, here they all were, sitting together as if nothing had happened.
She stood before the bonfire, doing her best not to look at the grieving elder widows behind the old crone. Facing the Khaskars, she said,
"I can tell you clearly: the Long Night is coming, and Vaes Dothrak is too far north to withstand the winter."
"In winter we go south. If not for the war in Slaver's Bay, we would now be at the lower reaches of the Rhoyne, or somewhere in the boundless Disputed Lands," a Khaskar said.
"In previous years you could go south to escape the cold, but not this time." Dany shook her head. "Do you know what the Long Night is?"
The one-eyed old crone said, "It is the prophecy of the Red Priests and the shadowbinders of Asshai."
"If the Long Night arrives, what is your plan for surviving the winter?" Dany asked.
"What plan do the Dothraki need? When it's cold, we go south. When we lack something, we take it," shouted a Khaskar in the front row, a man with a knife scar across his left eyebrow.
Dany gave him a careful look: a square face, around thirty-four or thirty-five years old, a braid to his hips, and more than twenty bells.
A fierce warrior.
Well, the standard for judging a fierce Dothraki warrior was too simple. If he was a bit over thirty, with a long braid and many bells, he was surely a formidable fighter, both wise and brave.
Without wisdom, a Dothraki man would never reach thirty. Without martial prowess, he could not grow such a long braid or earn so many bells.
"I have a plan."
Dany decided not to coax them further. The Dothraki mind simply worked differently from hers.
"Great Khal of Khals, speak," the old crone said.
"The coalition army is besieging my city of Meereen. I will lead all the screamers south, defeat the alliance of mercenaries and slavers along the Lazhar River, then go to Meereen and test the enemy's war elephants. We will see whether they are stronger, or our hundred thousand iron riders are."
"To Meereen! To Meereen!"
The Dothraki immediately grew excited, clapping, pounding the ground, and howling loudly.
Dany pressed her hands downward. When the roaring Dothraki finally quieted, she continued, "After clearing the Lazhar River region, I plan to build a new 'City of the Khaleesi' on the edge of the Red Waste."
"When I was young, I went to the Red Hell. It is scorching and barren, and cannot support many Dothraki," the one-eyed old crone said.
"Heh, it is a hell now, but when the Long Night comes, that scorching, arid wasteland might become fertile ground."
The old crone frowned in thought for a moment, then asked, "Great Khal of Khals, what exactly do you intend to do?"
"Almost the same as before. You and your eunuchs will remain here to govern the holy city.
"As the Khal of Khals, I will lead the Khalasar south.
"We will claim land on the south bank of the Lazhar, build ranches, and the center of each ranch will become a part of the City of the Khaleesi."
(P.S. Although Bolash is the allied army's base, it used to be a ruin. Vaes Dothrak's ordinary spies were never equipped with ravens that could fly directly to Bolash; messages had to be sent with ravens to Qohlos first before reaching the front.
In fact, by this time, the main allied forces had already left Bolash and were marching elsewhere. Their location was uncertain. They could send ravens out, but receiving them was difficult. Urgent messages between city-states relied on fast riders and wyverns.)
(End of chapter)
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